My Best Friend's Girl
by JordanMcGee
Summary: What if Opie met her first?
1. The Real Surprise

**AN:** This AU story's been banging around in my head for a while - first influenced by my favorite Julia Quinn novel and then randomly hearing that oldie, but goody "My Best Friend's Girl" by the Cars. Well now here it is…it'll be longer than my usual one shots but much shorter than TRD/TRD2.

All belongs to Sutter except my brain & the chapter titles (which belong to Ric Ocasek)

* * *

 **The Real Surprise**

The first time Jax ever heard about Tara Knowles, she pissed him off…and she wasn't even there. He'd been fifteen and excited as hell that his best friend was finally back in town for a weekend visit - Opie's first trip back to Charming since his parents split, and his mom dragged him away to live with her in Rio Vista. But to Jax's surprise and teeth-gritting annoyance, Ope didn't seem to give a fuck about Harleys or SAMCRO any more - all he could talk about was his new girlfriend, who apparently was the most beautiful girl in the universe. Jax had rolled his eyes and called bullshit; there was no way some fifteen-year-old high school girl - especially one on the fucking _honor roll_ \- could remotely compare to the superhot croweaters they had at the Clubhouse. No fucking way.

Listening to Opie yammer on about _Tara this_ and _Tara that_ every time he came to visit that summer had not only bored Jax shitless, it'd had scared him too. Opie's always been the guy who'd fall hard for a girl…for about a month, then he'd move on. But not this time; Jax's never seen his best friend this batshit crazy about anyone - and that could be bad fucking news. Before leaving town with his mom, Opie had promised that he'd keep harping on Mary to let him move back to Charming when he turned sixteen so that he and Jax could Prospect together and patch-in at the same time. What if Opie decided to bail on their plan and stay in Rio Vista with Little Miss Straight A's? Could Jax be ruthless enough to break them up so that Opie would come home and earn his patch and seat at the reaper table where they both belonged?

Fortunately, Jax didn't have to unleash his diabolical plans (which he really didn't have); Opie's brotherhood ties ran deep - as promised, he moved back in with Piney days before his sixteenth birthday so that the Club could vote him in as a Prospect. As expected, the vote was unanimous - just like Jax's was last month - and the Club's throwing them both a big party tomorrow night.

Everything should be fucking peachy except that his best friend's been moping around like a sulky bitch because Tara can't make it to the party; apparently she's going to some crazy-ass science camp in Berkeley instead. Seriously, what the fuck…Opie must've been really hard up in Rio Vista to think that shit's sexy.

Talk about sexy, holy fuck…Jax slides out from under the car he'd been working on to fixate on the most mouthwatering ass he's ever seen - attached to a pair of long, slim legs that would look fucking amazing wrapped around his waist. Quickly jumping to his feet, he wipes his hands on a rag then strides eagerly towards her - a grin lighting his face as he admires all that glossy dark brown hair spilling down her back. He can't wait to feel the silky strands brush against him as he fills his hands with those perfect, perky ass cheeks. Shit his dick's twitching, and he hasn't even seen her face yet.

Lightly tapping her on the shoulder, he summons his most helpful Boy Scout voice - relieved as hell that no one's around to laugh in his face at that bullshit. "Can I help you?"

She whirls around and flashes him a grateful smile…or slugs him in the head with a goddamn baseball bat - it's the same stunning, catastrophic effect on his senses. Sonofabitch. Since discovering the difference between a dick and a pussy, Jax's been all about the latter - he's seen and fucked more than his fair share of smoking hot babes who've practically lined up to service SAMCRO's heir apparent. But none of that action's ever prepared him for this…Standing in front of him now is the most beautiful girl he's ever seen - creamy skin that makes his fingers itch to touch her, plump rosy lips that sends his dick pressing hard against his fly, gorgeous mossy green eyes framed by thick black lashes that blasts his pulse into fucking overdrive…Christ.

"Thanks! I'm looking for…" Damn, she's even got the sexiest voice he's ever heard - clear, sweet, almost musical; not the deep, throaty smoker's rasp he's used to hearing from pretty much every chick he's met. Jax can't fucking wait to hear her gasp and scream and chant his name while he buries himself deep inside of her again and again for the rest of their lives. Oh fuck yeah, he'll be hanging on to this one for a while.

The microscopic part of his brain that's still functional barks at him to stop gawking at her like a dipshit - especially when he realizes that she's looking at him expectantly, apparently waiting for an answer to the question he didn't hear her ask because he'd been too caught up in his heart-pounding, happily-ever-after fuck fantasy.

Snapping out of this first-time-ever-crazy-as-shit mute fascination, Jax desperately scours his empty brain for something, anything to say and prove that he's not a complete fucking idiot - only to get struck dumb all over again by the blinding smile that spreads across her face. But before he can gather his scattered brain cells, she turns and sprints away from him...and into the arms of his best friend.

Jax knows he's got a short fuse, it's as much of a family flaw as CHD - but while he'd been spared the extreme heart problems that had plagued his mom and killed his little brother, Jax got a double dose of the hot Teller temper. Fortunately, he's gotten pretty good at keeping it in check - something he's had to master since he got his Prospect cut; otherwise he'd be fucking dead or in jail for beating the shit out one of his Brothers (likely Tig) when the hazing got to be more than he could handle.

But there's nothing, fucking nothing that could control the searing rage that explodes inside of him while he watches his girl (he mentally claimed her as his) laugh in delight as Opie spins her around.

"What are you doing here?" Jax hears Opie ask once he finally sets her down. "I thought you were headed to Berkeley."

Smiling, she wraps her arms around his waist. "I am…but I thought I'd stop by and see you on the way."

Opie chuckles before tapping her on the nose. "Wrong direction, sweetheart; Berkeley is west. But since I get to see you, I'm sure as hell not complaining."

Seething, Jax balls his hands into tight fists as Opie cups her face and kisses her soundly. It takes every ounce of control he's got not to race over there, knock out his best friend in the world, throw her over his shoulder and take off on his Harley. He knows it's fucking insane to react this way over a total stranger, but…

"Jax!" Opie finally notices him standing there and motions to him excitedly. "Come over here, I want you to meet someone."

He briefly considers pretending he didn't hear Opie yelling for him from a few feet away and disappearing into the garage. Surely there's a bottle of Jack in there somewhere. Instead he grits his teeth and stalks over to the happy couple, pasting a fake-as-hell friendly smile on his face.

After greeting his friend with a stiffer-than-usual man hug, Jax turns his attention to her, only to feel all the air rush out of his lungs as those green eyes twinkle up at him. Goddamn it, he's never had a hard time talking to girls - never - but something about this one turns him into a fucking shit-for-brains dork.

Opie doesn't seem to notice the bad-tempered shittyness rolling off Jax in waves. Instead he grins happily, tugging the most beautiful girl in the universe closer to him. "Jax, this is Tara…Tara Knowles, my girlfriend."


	2. Here She Comes Again

**Here She Comes Again**

Jax's always been told to fight for what he wanted - to never give up until it was his; that'd been preached to him practically since birth by both his parents (especially his mom) and later by his SAMCRO Brothers. Shit, one of the reasons his Old Man started the Sons of Anarchy with his war buddies was so that they could be free to live the lives they wanted - even if it meant fighting bloody to make it so.

However, he's pretty fucking sure no one in his close circle of family and friends would encourage him to fight for what he wants now…even though he's never wanted anything else more in his life.

Sitting at the Clubhouse bar, he glances across the room where she's sitting on Opie's lap - smiling as her head rests against his - while he plays poker with Tig, Chibs, Bobby and Otto. Jax gulps down his shot of Jameson then pours another, hoping that the whiskey's burn can snuff out the fucking ache in his gut.

It's been three months since Tara walked onto the TM lot looking for Opie - and blown Jax's world to hell…three months of expecting that this insane mindfucking attraction to her would disappear as instantly as it rocked him, three months of waiting for Opie to lose interest in her like he's done with every other girl in his life. Three months of pure fucking misery.

He's done his best to avoid her, which shouldn't have been hard since she and Opie only see each other on the weekends now that school's started - although Rio Vista's not that far away, Tara's apparently all-business when it comes to school and homework. But when she has shown up with Opie - at the Clubhouse or friends' parties or just to hang out with the guys - Jax's always made himself scarce, usually by taking off with the nearest willing pussy (and they're all willing).

But like a braindead moth to a fucking blowtorch, he can't seem to stay away from Tara entirely - lurking in the background drinking in glimpses of her, wondering how she can be so goddamn fucking perfect. He'd hoped like hell that she'd turn out to be a lunatic bitch (like one of Opie's former girlfriends) or just another pretty face that bored a guy shitless after an hour (like all the other girls Jax's ever met); no such goddamn luck - bold, witty and a total fucking smartass, Tara's lively brain's almost as sexy as her knockout body. Almost.

"Hi, Jax."

Nearly choking on his whiskey, Jax manages to force it down before unleashing a bad-tempered scowl at her. "What?" he snaps, trying to ignore the fact his whole fucking body's zipping with excitement just because she sat down next to him.

Eyes widening - yet undeterred, Tara raises her hands in surrender after his asshole greeting. "Nothing…just wanted to say hi since I haven't seen you in a while. And grab a drink." She motions to the bottle of Jameson that he's clutching in his hand like a lifeline.

"Sorry," he mutters, sliding the bottle towards her. Rising from his bar stool, Jax desperately scans the room for an available croweater, both to help in his escape and to take care of the sudden twitching inside his boxers.

"Maybe I should be the one saying that…I'm sorry."

Confused by that cryptic response, Jax turns his gaze back to her. Watching as she slowly sips her whiskey, he can't help but marvel that - in a room full of fully made-up, barely dressed croweaters - Tara Knowles, in her Nirvana t-shirt, jeans and no makeup, is the most smoking hot girl he's ever seen. "Sorry for what?" he croaks, reaching for a bottle of tequila.

Tucking a lock of glossy brown hair behind her ear, she flashes him a small smile that sends his pulse racing. "I'm sorry for whatever I did to piss you off." She must've misread the stunned look on his face as proof of his enmity towards her. "Look, I don't know why you don't like me, but I'm hoping there's something I can do to fix it…for Opie's sake. You're his best friend, and I don't want to be something that gets in the way of that."

Jesus Christ. He'd laugh his ass off over the irony of her words…except that he's completely fucking frozen. Jax swallows hard at the hopeful expression on her beautiful face; what the fuck could he possibly say? Shaking his head, he manages a bark of incredulous laughter. "Why the hell would you think that? I like you just fine." Although not a religious man, Jax waits for a bolt of lightning to strike his shitty, hypocritical ass dead.

She tilts her head, as if trying to assess his level of bullshit. "It just seems like you take off every time I show up, like you can't stand to be in the same room with me." Tossing back her shot, she sets the glass on the bar. "You wouldn't be the first," she murmurs softly.

What the hell does that mean? Lighting a cigarette, he peers at her through the smoke. "I'm here right now, darlin'. Not goin' anywhere."

"So we're good?" Her face brightens, lighting him up inside. "That's such a relief. Opie thinks the world of you, Jax. I'd really love it if we could be friends, too."

Smoke hits the back of his throat, and he nearly chokes for the second time in about five minutes. Shit. Gripping his cigarette, he nearly snaps it in half as he struggles not to cough and not to throw the tequila bottle across the room. Goddamn, he really needs to get the hell out of here before she fucking kills him. "You got it," he rasps, then nods towards Opie. "You might want to get back to your boyfriend. Looks like he's about to lose big." Opie fucking sucks at poker.

Looking over her shoulder, she smiles fondly as Opie tosses his cards to the table in disgust. "Yeah, he spends too much time studying his cards and not enough watching his opponents. And those guys have so many Tells, they may as well be playing with their cards facing front."

"Sounds like you've played a few hands of Draw." Despite himself, Jax smirks at her admiringly; what a cunning little sneak - the devoted girlfriend, steadfastly affixed to her man's side…while silently cataloguing clues for future ass-kicking. He can't fucking wait to see that. "Hey, I got an idea…"

* * *

"Where'd you learn to play like that?" Opie shakes his head in amazement as Tara tucks the thick wad of cash in her small purse.

Per Jax's plan, she'd asked the players at the table if she could try her luck - and Opie, tired of losing money, offered his seat then warned his Brothers to take it easy on her. But whatever slack the older bikers might've given her initially disappeared quickly as Tara - after a deliberately slow start - won hand after hand until she'd recouped Opie's losses and fucking then some.

Jax had remained at the bar and watched her - alternately smiling affectionately at the methodological elegance at which she took down his Brothers, and bristling with white-knuckled fury every time Opie leaned in to kiss her. A few times between hands, she'd glanced his way and winked at him - causing his fucking heart to skip a beat every goddamn time. Jax'd decided then and there that he couldn't stay away any more; despite how much it might kill him to see her with Opie, he wants her to be happy…and if there's anything he can do to make her laugh and smile like tonight, he'll fucking do it.

"My grandma was a dealer in Reno for years." Tara grins as they join Jax at the bar. "She taught me how to sew a mean stitch and always stay in the money."

Jax hands them both a beer. "Well here's to grandma." He taps his bottle to hers, then to Opie's. "I have to admit, I'm impressed, Knowles. Thought Tiggy was going to have a melt-down after that last hand…He may never be the same again. That shit was definitely worth watching."

"Hey, we're going out for late night burgers…got to feed my girl." Opie takes a swig of his beer then nods at Jax. "You should come with us."

Glancing at Tara, Jax feels warmth spread through him at her eager smile. _I'd really love it if we could be friends_. Shit, he's pretty fucking sure there's nothing he wouldn't do for her. "Sure, that'll be great."

And so after that night, Jax's become the constant third wheel to his best friend and his best friend's girl; sometimes he'd bring a date or even Lowell, but most times he'd go with them solo - especially after one seemingly brainless blonde had complained about how he paid more attention to Tara than her. Christ, he'd fucking lose his shit if anyone found out how bad he's got it for Tara…it'd be the end of his friendship with Opie, and he wouldn't risk that for anything. Not even her.

* * *

"Hey, Teller." Jax looks up from working on a car's engine, only to have his breath catch in his throat. Goddamn it. It's been six months, and he's still fucking crazy about her - if not more so, now that he's gotten to really know her; he'd at least hoped that by this time, the intensity of his reactions to her would subside even a fraction. Apparently not fucking likely.

He hasn't seen her for a week, and his eyes can't seem to soak in enough - especially when she's rocking a wispy halter top that hints at her truly world-class rack. Shit, he fucking dreamed about fondling and kissing those puppies just last night (and pretty much every night since meeting her).

Feeling his dick swell under his coveralls, Jax inhales sharply and drags his gaze from that enticing cleavage to her beautiful face - which does nothing to ease the tingling in his balls. Gritting his teeth, he wipes his hands on a rag but remains behind the car; he's not playing fucking show and tell with the tented proof of what she does to him. "Ope's on a repo run. He'll be back any minute."

"Oh, I know." Smiling, she strides towards him. "Actually, I came by to see you, too."

His Brothers would fucking asses off if they knew how easily she could reduce him into a big, goddamn pile of stupid. Unable to stop the shit-eating grin from spreading across his face or the slow pounding of his heart, Jax ignores his hard-on and steps out from behind the car. "Yeah? Well here I am."

She looks away for a second, which he's come to learn is her way of gathering her thoughts. "I've noticed that when you're alone…you're always writing something down in a little notebook." She lifts her hand, and waves a small shopping bag at him. "You know I just started my new job at a bookstore…well, we just got these in, and I thought of you."

Accepting the bag from her, Jax's not sure whether he's more horrified that she's noticed his compulsion to write down his thoughts or ecstatic as hell that she'd thought about _him_. He looks into the bag and then back up to meet her expectant gaze…and just fucking melts. Reaching into the bag, he pulls out a small, pocket-sized black leather notebook with a motorcycle engraved on the cover and a stack of blank journal refills of premium paper stock.

"Do you like it?" She bites her lip, as if nervous over his reaction. "You can still fit it in your pocket, and the paper won't bend so much and smear your writing…and when you run out of refills, I can always get you more…But if you don't like, I…"

He'd give fucking everything to wrap his arms around her and never let go; instead, he settles for squeezing her shoulder. "Tara, it's perfect. Thank you." He's received some pretty fantastic gifts in his day, but other than his Harley, he's never loved anything more than this.

She beams him a smile so bright that his brain just fucking scrambles in his head; dazed, Jax barely hears her tell him that she's going inside to look for Piney. Transfixed by that lusciously perfect ass walking away from him, he doesn't notice his mom slipping into the garage until she's standing in front of his face.

"You and Opie have been best friends since you boys were babies…" She tells him as if he didn't know, as if he didn't remind himself every goddamn day. "You're practically brothers…I'd hate to see anything - or anyone - ruin that."

Jax tries to mask his horror that she's discovered his secret by scowling darkly at her. "What the hell are you talking about, Mom?" Maybe there's a tiny chance she's not about to bitch him out for falling hard for his best friend's girlfriend.

No chance. Her eyes narrow in annoyance. "Don't play stupid with me, Jackson. I've been watching you drool over that girl for weeks. It stops now. Do you understand me? Opie's crazy about her, and - from what I've seen - she's all his. Don't fuck with that or you'll just wind up hurting yourself and the two of them. And the Club, since you and Opie are SAMCRO's future."

She must've sensed the pain he's been trying to keep buried for months because her expression softens. Lighting a cigarette, she takes a drag then hands it to him. "Baby, you know I want nothing more than you to be happy. But she isn't it…You got to let this go. Stay away from her."

Inhaling deeply, he closes his eyes; his mom's right…he needs to get over her, needs to stay away. But clutching the leather journal, he brushes his fingers against the smooth surface and remembers the glowing smile on her gorgeous face. _I can't._


	3. She'll Make You Flip

**She'll Make You Flip**

"So when's Tara getting here?" For the millionth time, Jax's gaze slides towards the Clubhouse doorway where just about everyone's walked through for SAMCRO's weekly Friday night party - except the one person he wants to see the most. Plopping down in a chair next to Opie, he takes a swig of his beer then quickly musters his bored face.

Lighting a joint, Opie scowls. "She's not coming out tonight," he grouses, clearly pissed over the news. "Got into a fender bender today and wants to take it easy this weekend."

"What! Is she okay?" Jax grips the chair arm so tight, he can feel the splinters digging into his skin. Over the past year, he's gotten pretty goddamn good at forcing a casual don't-really-give-a-fuck tone in his voice when talking about Tara, but that's all about to get blown to hell as he struggles to hang onto his shit.

Opie downs his shot of whiskey then pours himself another. "Yeah. She says she's fine, just a couple of bruises. I told her that I'd ask Clay for time off so I can spend the weekend over there with her, but she said no…wants to study for some test." He wrinkles his nose in disgust - not that Jax could blame him; no guy likes getting cock-blocked, especially by school.

"That sounds weird," an all-too-familiar female voice chimes in from behind Opie. "What girl gives up the chance to get pampered by her boyfriend?"

Jax cranes his neck to face her. "Hey Donna." If he weren't so freaked out by the thought of Tara in a car accident, he'd be surprised to see sweet little Donna Lerner - whose parents absolutely hate Piney and SAMCRO - at a Club party. He and Opie have known her forever since her family lives down the street from the Winstons - and although she's a few years younger, Opie's always tolerated her nagging insistence to tag along with them. That said, Donna showing up at SAMCRO party's a first - her dad would lose his fucking mind.

"Not weird for Tara," Opie mutters, guzzling another shot before passing the bottle to Donna. "My girl takes that shit seriously - she actually likes studying…" As if suddenly imagining Tara with an ever-present book, he smiles fondly then rises unsteadily to his feet. "I'm gonna call her."

Watching his friend stalk away, Jax takes a hit from the joint Opie left behind as he tries to mask his own scowl. Shit, he's not sure if he's more worried about Tara's possible injuries or bitterly disappointed that she won't be here this weekend. Since the day he met her and lost his fucking mind over her beautiful face, he's eagerly looked forward to when he'd see her again - like a man trapped in darkness desperate for the sun. Holy shit, when did he turn into such a goddamn pussy? Disgusted, he sucks in a long drag from the bud; getting baked might not solve his fucking problems, but it'll do for now.

"I don't get it." The sharpness of Donna's tone yanks Jax away from the shit soup boiling his head better than the weed's usual numbing effects. "Don't you think he and Tara are just totally wrong for each other? They've got absolutely nothing in common."

Christ. Right now, Jax would gladly give up his Harley to _not_ have this conversation. "Huh?" Playing dumb, drunk and high sound like his safest bets - as well as attack mode, his usual default when trapped in a corner. "What are you doing here anyway, Donna? Last I checked, we draw the line at corrupting eighth graders."

Those pale blue eyes skewer him. "Excuse me, asshole, I'm in high school now…you'd know if you ever bothered to show up to class. I'm sixteen." As Jax raises an eyebrow in disbelief, she snatches the joint from his fingers. "…well I will be in a few weeks." She takes a hit then exhales with a bad-tempered huff. "He just likes her rack."

No shit, who the fuck wouldn't…Jax's mind instantly fills with the vision of Tara in bikini, how those lusciously plump mounds had strained against the scraps of fabric…how perfectly they'd fill his hands - his big, greedy hands. Goddamn it, he grits his teeth at the never-fail hard-on that strains against his fly every fucking time he thinks of her.

His eyes widen as he shoots back to real-time and focuses on the small brown-haired girl sitting in front of him - fuck, he'd better not be drooling. Donna's pretty sharp; she'd suspect something for sure, and he can't risk anyone knowing how bad he's got it for Tara. But Donna's not even looking at him; she's too busy glaring at Opie's retreating back. What the hell's her problem? Not that he gives a shit right now; he's got to find a croweater to suck him or fuck him before his dick busts through his zipper.

* * *

It's not the worst fucking idea he's ever had...Jax's been telling himself that since he jumped on his Harley and hit the road for Rio Vista. Piney, Otto and Bobby had tagged Opie to go with them on a last-minute, four-day run to Tacoma - leaving Jax behind to be Prospect-slave for Clay and the rest of the guys. Knowing that Clay planned to take Gemma to dinner in Lodi, Jax caved into the temptation that'd been dogging his ass since last night when Opie told him about Tara's accident.

All he wants is to see for himself that she's really okay - especially since Opie won't be able to check on her for a while.

Besides, no one needs to know - not even her; he'll go to the bookstore where she works, get her address if she's not there, then hang out until he can confirm that she's as unhurt as she'd claimed to Opie. It'll be fine - unless she catches him; then he'll be fucked.

Parking his bike on the street, he scans the block and quickly spots the bookstore. It doesn't seem possible that there's a place in this world smaller than Charming, but Rio Vista makes his home town look like San Francisco. When Jax found out that Mary was moving here and dragging Opie with her, he'd felt so bad for his friend getting stuck in this shithole…stuck in this shithole with Tara - lucky bastard.

He peers through the bookstore window but doesn't see anyone, just shelves and shelves of books. Glancing at the sign in the window, he realizes that the store's about to close in a few minutes. Figures. In a sleepy town like this, everyone's probably in bed by eight.

Hedging his bets that she wouldn't be working the day after a car accident, Jax decides to go inside - grimacing as the bell jingles when he slips through the door…and again when Tara emerges from one of the tall stacks. Shit.

"Jax? What are you doing here?" No doubt surprised at the sight of him, she nearly drops the books cradled in her arms.

But rooted to the spot, he's too stunned to answer. Hot fury blasts through him as he slowly takes in the ugly purple bruise on her left cheek, the split and swollen lip. She can insist all she wants that an airbag did that to her, but he's seen the ugly, fucked-up results of vicious backhands before - bikers aren't always too nice to the women around them. As much as he'd hated watching Brothers and Members of other MC's beat on croweaters and old ladies, he'd stayed put when ordered to do so. Not this time. No goddamn fucking way.

"Who did this to you?" he seethes through gritted teeth. "You need to fucking tell me right now, Tara…" At her sputtering denials, he snaps and stalks towards her. "Don't fucking lie to me…you don't get hurt like that from some goddamn car accident!"

Fear flashes across her face, paralyzing him in place and zapping at some of his rage; Christ, he doesn't want her to be scared of him. "Look Tara…"

But Tara, being Tara, never does the expected and just blows him away. Tossing the books on the counter, she pokes him in the chest. "You've got a lot of fucking nerve coming here and calling me a liar, Jackson." Those sparkling green eyes flare with temper. "If I said I was in a car accident, then you need to accept that. Anything else about my life is none of your goddamn business."

Clenching his fists, Jax glares back then (after a million deep breaths) decides to change tack after realizing he's never going to find out jack shit by antagonizing her. So many things stand out in his mind about Tara; it's not enough that she's the hottest, smartest, most beautiful girl he knows - she's also the most strong-willed person he's ever met; it's both annoying as shit and sexy as hell. "Look, I'm sorry. I was - I mean, Opie and I…Well we were just worried about you. And I…We thought..." Oh fuck, when will he stop turning into this raging dipshit around her?

"What are you doing here, Teller?" She crosses her arms and arches a brow as her anger melts into puzzled confusion. "Don't you have like five dates tonight?"

A small smile tugs at his mouth; damn, he loves her sass. "Just four, it's a slow night." Unable to help himself, he taps her softly on the nose. "But seriously, I did want to check on you…With Opie out of town the next few days, he'd want to know that you're okay." One day that lightning bolt's gonna blast his ass to hell.

Her expression softens and those poor, abused lips curve slightly. "I'm fine, Jax. Really. It's sweet that Opie sent you here to check up on me, but it's nothing."

It's not fucking nothing, he hisses to himself; he'll get to the bottom of this bullshit if it's the last fucking thing he does. But she doesn't need to know that.

Glancing around the shop, Jax spots what he wants. Since she gave him the small leather journal, he's blown through the refills like a junkie with crack. "Also, I wanted to pick up more of these." He scoops up all the little packets on the shelf and waves them at her; swallowing hard when she beams at him.

Electricity zips through him as her fingers brush his hand when she takes the packs of paper; the first time that'd happened - the day he met her - he nearly jumped out of his skin. To his everlasting mindfuck, it's still happening; shit, if anything, the voltage's shot up a thousand degrees.

But for someone as brilliant as Tara, it's a freakin' miracle that she's got absolutely no clue of what she does to him - the one small fucking break that the fates have tossed his way. The powers of the universe owe him at least that - given how hard they must laugh their goddamn asses off at him.

Tara rings up the refills then packs them into a small bag. "So, have you had a chance to start reading Heller?" Not long after she bought him the journal, she started bringing him books…all because he casually mentioned some shit that he'd read from his old man's library. First she'd brought him Ayn Rand when he admitted to reading _Atlas Shrugged_ but not _The Fountainhead_ , followed by some of her favorites that she wanted him to check out - Hammett, Mailer, Capote, Highsmith…writers and stories that he'd never read in school. Those green eyes had lit up with happy excitement each time she handed him a thick paperback. _"I love that we have something in common," she enthuses._ He'd devoured them all.

The fact that she could pick up shit about him so quickly - things that people he'd known all his life never noticed - freaked him out a little…and had every cell in his stupid body lighting up like Fourth-of-fucking-July fireworks.

Happy to change the subject - and really happy that she's not pissed at him anymore - he nods. "Yeah, it's pretty good." Last weekend she showed up with a copy of _Catch-22_ for him - the irony would've made him laugh if it wasn't so fucked up. Like always, he'd get the book, then Opie would get to drag her off to the apartment to…shit he can't go there - can't ever go there - his goddamn head would explode.

"How much do I owe you?" He takes the bag from her, carefully avoiding the touch of her fingers; his nerves can't stand any more stimulation given all the crazy emotions battering at him right now.

Shaking her head, Tara pockets the receipt. "On me, Teller." Her gaze drifts out the window before returning to him. "Sorry I was so bitchy…I just never had anyone care enough to check on me before. Thank you for that. And tell Opie I said thank you…if you talk to him before I do. He's kind of pissed at me right now."

Well shit. He's got no idea what to say to that - especially since Opie doesn't know that his best friend's lost his fucking mind. Forcing a tight smile, he grunts his thanks then mutters something about hoping she feels better before hauling ass out the door.

* * *

Christ, how long does it take to close a small bookstore? Jax lights another cigarette, his gaze darting between the shop's back door and Tara's old Jeep, parked all alone in the back lot. It's been nearly twenty minutes since he left her - twenty minutes of planning how he'd find out who'd hurt her since she clearly didn't want him or Opie to know.

Scanning her car, he didn't see any damage, which meant she lied about the accident - but there's nothing fake about her injuries; no those are vividly real…and driving him fucking insane. Jax can't understand why she'd want to protect the asshole who hurt her by lying about a car accident, which makes him realize how little he knows about her life here in Bum Fuck, California. But that's about to change; even if he has to follow her around tonight - and the rest of the weekend - he'll find out who did this…then he'll beat the bastard to shit.

Jax's about to lose his fucking mind just sitting on his bike, so he jumps off and walks towards the back door. If she catches him again, he'll tell her he couldn't get his bike to start. Pressing his ear against the door, he hears the voices…she's not alone.

"I gave you all the money I have…But you can't take anything from the store - that's stealing!"

"Goddamn it, Tara - you ungrateful bitch! Open the register now or I'm going to make you fucking sorry."

It's a damn good thing the back door lock was easily picked or Jax would've kicked the fucker open. Flinging the door open, he charges into the shop - his furious gaze narrowing at the sight of a tall, dark-haired man tightly gripping Tara's arms, shaking her violently.

"Get your fucking hands off her, you sick piece of shit!" Ripping the man away from Tara, Jax slams his fist into the motherfucker's jaw - sending him sprawling to the ground. But before Jax can tear the son-of-a-bitch into a million bloody pieces, Tara jumps in front of him.

"Stop it, Jax!" She grips his arms and tugs him towards the door. "It's not what you think…you have to go now. Please."

Yanking his arm from her grasp, Jax stares at her incredulously; fury choking him so hard, he can barely speak. "What? This asshole's trying to rob you…and you want me to leave you alone with him? Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

"Does your biker boyfriend know you're fucking this other punk?" The would-be-robber, and future-dead-man, scrambles to his feet and sneers at them. "It's a good thing your mother's not around to see you now, you dumb bitch…it would've killed her all over again, knowing what she gave up for you - you cheap, faithless whore!"

"Shut your goddamn mouth!" Jax lunges for the bastard, only to stop short as Tara steps between them again - pressing her hands against his chest, begging him to stop. Normally, nothing could get in the way between him and what he wanted - in this case, murdering this miserable prick - but Tara's wet, pleading eyes immobilize him. Shit, since meeting her, nothing's been normal.

Vibrating with rage, Jax shoots the fucking shithead his most lethal glare. "Get the hell out of here," he hisses. "…and don't ever come back - or I will kill you."

The other man opens his mouth then slams it shut, as if self-preservation kicks in; casting them one last hate-filled scowl before dashing out the back door, slamming it loudly behind him.

"What the fuck's going on, Tara?" Jax grabs her arms, only to let go instantly when she winces in pain; no doubt that bastard left bruises. Staring into her pain-filled face, his fury spikes another hundred degrees at the sight more bruises on her face, the fresh blood on her lip. "If you won't let me take care of that guy, at least you should call the cops…he tried to rob you!"

Shaking her head, she swipes at the tears spilling down her cheeks. "No," she whispers, sniffling. "I can't."

"Why the hell not?" Jax barks in frustration. "Jesus, look at what he's done to you…he can't get away with this. Someone's got to make him pay…if not me or the cops, Opie…"

"No!" She grips his hand, her short nails digging into this palm. "Opie can't know about this...about any of this. Please, please don't tell him. Promise me you won't tell him anything, Jax. Please."

Staring into her poor battered face, Jax struggles to maintain his anger as those green eyes melt him thoroughly - like only she can do. "Christ, Tara…Why are you doing this? Who is that guy?"

She closes her eyes briefly before meeting his gaze once again. "His name's Frank Knowles. He's my dad."

* * *

Some might think that his family life's a little fucked-up, and to an extent Jax would agree; he also knows that he's damn lucky to have them - his mom, Opie and his other SAMCRO Brothers - crazy, as some of them may be. Without them, he doesn't know how he would've navigated through those dark days after losing his little brother and then his dad.

It kills him that Tara had gone through the same pain - losing her mom when she was nine - but instead of the loving support system he had, she got the brunt of her alcoholic dad's fists. Jax aches at the thought of Tara - both as a little girl and now - at the mercy of that brutal prick; what fucked-up psycho would hurt his own kid like that?

As he helped her clean up the book shop after her dad's rampage, she'd told him a little bit about what life had been like after her mom's death; he could tell that she hated talking about it, as if it still hurt to re-live that painful time. As much as he'd hated causing her grief, he couldn't stop asking questions; he wanted to know everything about her, even the stuff she hadn't told Opie - especially the stuff she hadn't told Opie.

Apparently it hadn't always been bad…not long after her mom died, she got sent to live with her maternal grandmother (the card-dealer in Reno). But that lasted less than a year when a stroke claimed her grandma, and Tara was sent back to live with her dad - and his violent temper.

" _He's not always like that…" Tara assures him as they finish picking up the books that spilled to the floor during her dad's tirade. "It's just that his business has been slow these days…ever since the Army Reserve Center closed a few years ago, it's been tough on him to catch up."_

" _That's total bullshit, Tara…There's no fucking excuse for him to hurt you like this; Jesus Christ, he tried to rob you tonight!" It's all he can do from hurling the books in his arms against the wall, but she doesn't need that shit from him right now. "Listen, I'll follow you home. You pack your stuff and come back with me…then you can stay at the Clubhouse or at my mom's place until Opie gets back. I don't want you to stay here with that asshole anymore."_

 _Apparently those were the wrong damn words to say to her; green eyes blaze as she glares at him. "You don't get to make decisions for me, Teller! I'm not going anywhere, this is my home." Sighing loudly - as if trying to contain her own jumbled emotions - she rubs her temple. "Besides, I'm still a minor…there's no way some family court's going to let me live in an MC clubhouse or with my biker boyfriend. They'll just ship me off to some foster home god knows where…and I wouldn't get to see Opie any more. That can't happen, Jax. He's all I have."_

 _And you have me, he wants to shout at her - but he swallows that, along with the rest of his anger. No, he'll vent his rage where it belongs._

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Frank Knowles slurs, as Jax stalks into the bar the man owns. It's almost midnight on a Saturday night in the only bar in town - and Knowles's all alone guzzling Jack straight from the bottle. Shit, Tara thinks the man's losing business because some Army base closed? More likely because the fucker's drinking most of his inventory and turning off customers. "You're not welcome…get out!"

 _The question isn't who is going to let me…it's who is going to stop me*._

Sliding onto the bar stool opposite the psycho bartender, Jax stares at the man's big, meaty hand…the one that'd bloodied Tara. "I'm doing you a favor, asshole, so shut your goddamn mouth and listen…SAMCRO's got a friend who's a booze distributor…one word from me, and he can sell you all the same stock you got and more for a fraction of what a small shit like you probably pays. Probably save you a ton of cash…might even bring some actual customers in here with the stuff he's got."

Jax holds up his hand to silence the other man as he opens his mouth. "I'm not done, shithead…But you're done abusing Tara. You don't touch her, you don't steal from her, you don't say one fucking word to hurt her…EVER. Because if I hear that you so much as step on her toe, I'll fucking gut you like a hog and mount your carcass on this bar. And then I'll tell my Club what you've being doing to her…and they're not nearly as nice as I am. Do we understand each other, you miserable piece of shit?"

Knowles' steely gray eyes burn with hate, and for a second Jax thinks the son-of-a-bitch might actually refuse. But then the man nods grudgingly and takes another gulp of whisky. Christ, how in hell could this worthless motherfucker be Tara's dad?

Shaking his head in disgust, Jax pulls the heavy bike wrench out of his pocket and smashes it against Knowles' hand resting on the bar. Smirking with satisfaction at the sound of crunching bones and the bastard's screams of pain, Jax grabs the man by the throat. "Doesn't feel good, does it? Remember what I said, douchebag. Touch Tara again…and you die."

* * *

*Ayn Rand (paraphrased quote derived from _The Fountainhead_ )


	4. She's So Fine

**A/N: Huge apologies for taking so long to update. The past couple months have been been extremely busy at work so, unfortunately, I haven't had much time to write. Thanks so much for your patience! I'll try to do better.**

 **Special thanks to Ohne Namen for keeping me on my toes :-)**

* * *

 **She's So Fine**

Jax rakes his fingers through her long dark hair, loving the feel of the silky strands as they tickle his face, his chest, his dick. "Turn around," he orders hoarsely, drinking in the sight of those shiny dark chocolate locks tumbling down her naked back. He strokes the pale, velvety soft skin just above her mouthwatering ass - a perfect spot for inking his crow, where one day he can show the world that she belongs to him. Property of Jackson Teller. Mine.

Hissing with pleasure as she skims a condom over his rigid cock, he bolts upwards to nuzzle her neck and shoulder - one hand cupping a lush breast, rubbing and plucking at the stiff nipple, while the other slides between her sleek thighs to confirm she's as wet for him as he's as hard for her.

"Now…I need to fuck you now," Jax mutters roughly, rolling them over so he can plunge inside her slick heat. Closing his eyes, he can see her beautiful face - those mossy green eyes, dark with desire for him as she bites down on her plump bottom lip; basking in the ecstasy that only _he_ can give her. He thrusts harder, faster, deeper - incited by the sharpness of her nails digging into his back, the breathy sounds of her moaning his name, the tight clench of her hungry pussy squeezing his cock…and the vision of that sexy, saucy smile she saves just for _him_.

He buries his face in her hair as the hot rush of his release scorches through him; his blood pounding so violently through his veins that everything, every goddamn thing fades to nothing except her. _Oh Christ…I love you Tara…oh fuck, so much…_

* * *

"Liked that one did you?" Opie smirks as Jax walks out of the bedroom, still sitting at the same table where Jax'd left him an hour ago to chase after a leggy brunette with a swishing, heart-shaped ass.

Running a hand through his tousled hair, Jax hesitates for a second before sitting down; twinges of guilt nipping at him as he faces his best friend. Shit, it's one thing to fantasize about fucking his Brother's girlfriend…quite another to gasp her name while coming inside some nameless, faceless piece of ass - with Opie in the next room. Tara's been the vision in his head during sex since the day he met her, but he's only lost control of reality a couple of times - always during long separations from her and always with some chick with long dark hair and even longer legs.

"What's not to like?" Shrugging, Jax lights a cigarette, hoping to calm his less-than-steady-nerves. Christ, it'd felt so real - like it'd really been Tara with his dick buried deep inside of her - that he can't bear to look Opie in the eye. Instead he glances around the empty SAMTAZ Clubhouse, where they've been staying the past few days while the two SOA charters hammer out an agreement on some secret shit that no one would tell him or Opie about. Being a Prospect sucked sometimes.

Opie snorts before taking a bite out of his sandwich. "Did you even get her name? I think nailing this one breaks a speed record, even for you."

" _By the way, my name's Marie…not Tara."_

On shit. Jax cringes inwardly as the flush he feels heating his neck spreads across his face. Yeah, he's used to hooking up with whatever pussy catches his eye, but usually he takes time to enjoy the hunt - savoring the predatory attention from women, flirting coyly before allowing himself to get "caught." But it's been nearly two weeks since he last saw Tara, and he misses her like hell. Jax may not get to touch her like he wants - he'd never do that to Opie - but there's no one on the planet who electrifies him like she does; after long separations from her like this…he feels fucking lost.

Trying to distract himself from the insistent thoughts of her, he'd looked out the Clubhouse window and caught sight of a hot chick standing across the street with a slight resemblance to the most beautiful girl in the world. And so he pounced.

"Who needs a name?" Jax snorts. "I wanted a fuck, not a wife."

Opie chuckles then takes a long pull of her beer. The amusement fades from eyes as he regards Jax thoughtfully. "Do you ever think about it? Whether you'll ever get married?"

The question's so unexpected, Jax bursts out laughing. "What?" Where the fuck did that question come from? Staring into his friend's serious, unsmiling face, Jax feels the laughter freeze in his chest, constricting his lungs until he can barely breathe. "What the hell, Ope? You can't possibly be thinking…" Jesus Christ, no. Goddamn, fucking hell NO.

Shit, it's been hell-on-goddamn-earth watching Opie and Tara together over the past year and a half, but Jax's managed to cope as best he can. Although last weekend, he wound up drinking himself into oblivion before crawling into bed with a pair of croweater twins so he could block out any thoughts about Opie and Tara on an overnight trip to Santa Cruz…just the two of them.

"I know it's crazy, right?" Opie pops the top off another beer. "Shit, Tara and I…We're both just seventeen - too young to be thinking about deep shit like that. But she's been talking about going away to college. East Coast even - Boston, New York. If that happens…Shit I don't know what I'd do…But if we got married, she'd have to stay." He stares pensively at his beer bottle, idly picking at the label; apparently too lost in his own thoughts to notice the angry horror twisting Jax's face.

Back when Jax's dad was alive, he always used to talk about the importance of having a vision - and more than one plan to make it happen. _"You got to have an end game, Son. Otherwise anything and everything you do, all the blood you spill - yours and others - won't mean shit._ "

Jax had idolized his old man, always tried to follow all of JT's advice - but where Tara's concerned, Jax's got no fucking vision at all. What end game could there be that didn't result in him or someone he loves getting hurt? His mom was right about that. So he's tried to avoid any thoughts about the future when it comes to Tara, except for when he'll see her next. Suddenly sickening images of Tara and Opie assault his brain: Tara becoming Opie's Old Lady, wearing _his_ crow - the two of them getting married, having kids…

Bolting out of his chair, Jax stalks over to the bar to pour himself a drink, desperately needing a distraction - otherwise he might he might do something insanely stupid like slug his best friend for contemplating a future that Jax wants for himself. In the back of his mind, he can see his mother glaring at him in disapproval - like she does every fucking time she's caught him anywhere near Tara. _"You're practically brothers...I'd hate to see anything - or anyone - ruin that..."_

Deciding not to bother with a glass, Jax chugs straight from the bottle - preferring the whiskey's burn to the hot rage seething through his veins. Swallowing hard, he narrows his eyes at Opie. "She wants to be a doctor…I'm no expert, but I'm sure there's a bunch of schools around here that would shit themselves to have someone as smart as her."

"Yeah, I know. But her dad isn't exactly swimming in dough so she wants to go to the best college that'll give her a scholarship." Opie crumples the beer label in his hand. "And she asked me to go with her…"

Jax nearly drops the bottle, then grips it so tightly that he's surprised it doesn't shatter in his hand. What the fuck? Opie couldn't possibly be thinking about leaving, could he? He gapes at the one person who's been closer to him than anyone in the universe.

"What'd you tell her?" he croaks, barely able to get the words out. The only thing worse than never seeing Tara again would be for Opie to leave with her.

Opie shrugs, finally looking up at him with troubled brown eyes. "If I told her that I couldn't leave the Club, I know she'd want to break up. So I said I'd think about it." Opie tosses the torn and crumpled beer label on to the table. "But you know what, man? It's fucking bullshit…She doesn't have to leave here - like you said, there's a bunch of schools close by where she could go. I don't know what the fuck's up with her."

" _You know, sometimes I wish I could move away - far from here…Be another person - not the town drunk's daughter, not the nerdy science dork in second-hand clothes…" Tara picks up the last of the books spilled by her dad's drunken attempt to rob her of the store's sales and drops them on the counter. "Have you ever wished you could be someone else?"_

 _Jax stares into those gorgeous green eyes that own him so thoroughly and shrugs with a casualness that belies the churning in his stomach. Before meeting her, he would've laughed at the idea of ever wanting to be anyone than Jax Teller, heir to the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Redwood Original. But now…there's no fucking way he's answering that question. No way he'd ever admit wanting to trade places with Opie pretty much every goddamn day._

" _I guess not; you've got your future all planned out." She shoots him a wry smile. "But you could, you know - do something else, something bigger…You're so gifted, Jax. All you have to do is want it…"_

Christ…Jax shakes the memory away. It's been a few months since he made that impulsive trip to check up on Tara after her "car accident" and discovered the truth about her shithead dad and fucked-up home life - something Opie still doesn't know shit about since Tara made Jax swear not to tell anyone about her relationship with her old man, especially not Opie. Jax doesn't know why Tara insists on keeping Opie in the dark; it would explain why she wants to get the hell away from Rio Vista and make something of herself. But fuck, she doesn't need to leave the state to do that.

"Well we should be blowing this shithole tomorrow." This time, Jax pours a shot into a glass then tosses it back. "You can talk to her when we get back. I'm sure you can make her see reason…" He's fucking counting on it.

The bedroom door opens and Jax's afternoon hookup saunters into the room - fully dressed and, judging from the seductive smile on her face, fully over his sexual faux pas of blurting out a different woman's name in her ear as he spurted inside her. "Hey, Sugar." She sashays over to him and pulls his head down for a wet, open-mouthed kiss. "I got to get back to work…You around later?"

"Maybe." Jax smirks at her. "Write down your number. I'll give you a call when we're done here."

After she writes down her digits on his hand, he escorts her to the door, gives her perky ass a squeeze before pecking her a kiss goodbye. And goodbye's what it'll be; no fucking way he's bringing her back here and risking the chance she might ask around about Tara or - fucking worse - let it spill that he called out Tara's name during sex. Based on Jax's experience with women, they couldn't be trusted to not do or say stupid shit.

Except one.

* * *

"Hey, have either of you guys seen Opie?" Tig pops his head into the garage bay.

Jax looks up from the bike he's working on with Lowell. "No. He took off half an hour ago - said he won't back back 'til later."

"Probably snuck off for some Afternoon Delight with Tara," Lowell snorts, wagging his eyebrows suggestively then yelps in pain when Jax "accidently" smacks his fingers with a wrench.

"Nope, not this time." Tig shakes his head. "Tara's on the bar line looking for him."

Almost instantly Jax drops the wrench and wipes his hands. "I'll talk to her." Hurrying towards the Clubhouse, he ignores the voice in his head warning him that - after the last time he saw her - he should stay a million goddamn miles away.

 _Christ, she's a sight for sore fucking eyes. Riding into the TM parking lot, Jax grins - his exhaustion from the long ride back from Tucson draining away as he spots Tara sitting at the picnic table reading a book. Most of the guys had already arrived a few hours before, however Bobby had to make a side trip to Modesto to drop something off for Precious and Jax had gone with him._

" _I'm so glad you're back!" She rushes towards him - her long legs quickly eating up the distance between them - and throws her arms around his neck._

 _Jax squeezes her tight; savoring the delicious scent of her, the press of her perfect body against his. "So you missed me, huh?" He teases, trying to be casual despite the excitement surging through every inch of him and his eager dick pulsing to life._

 _Tossing her head back in laughter, she melts his brain to mush with that gorgeous, saucy smile that he's convinced she saves just for him. "Maybe a little…" She tweaks his goatee before stepping out of his arms and nodding hello to Bobby. "Opie and the rest of the guys are inside. Gemma put together a big spread. Hope you're hungry."_

" _Starving…" Jax murmurs, his eyes glued to her flawless face - even though he can feel Bobby's all-too-observant eyes boring into him questioningly before heading to the Clubhouse._

 _However, neither of them follow him - both rooted to the spot as something both strange and breathtaking flickers in her green eyes as she returns his intense gaze, a pink flush spreading across her creamy skin. "What is it?" she asks softly._

" _Jax!" Before he can answer, the sound of Gemma Teller-Morrow's irate voice snaps him back to reality. Looking up, he meets his mother's furious glare as she stalks towards them. Goddamn it._

Ending the call, Jax stares at the phone receiver for a long moment. Apparently Tara had been on the way here to see Opie when her old Jeep broke down between Rio Vista and Charming. He knows he should send Lowell, Tig or anyone else with the tow truck, but he can't fucking resist the lure of spending time alone with her.

And so he rushes back to the garage and takes off with the truck - not bothering to check in with anyone; he can deal with Clay and his mother's wrath later. No matter how much shit they rain down on his ass, he knows it'll be worth it.

* * *

"Thanks for coming to get me." Tara shoots him a strained smile, clearly irritated by her car troubles.

"No problem. You called the right place." He's about to hoist her car up with the tow truck when she stops him so she can grab something from the back seat - a big picnic basket.

Hooking her car up to the truck, he nods at the basket in her hands. "What's in there?" His stomach growls, reminding him that he skipped lunch to play knight in shining armor with TM's old, greasy tow truck.

She shrugs as if it's no big thing, although Jax senses otherwise. "Opie told me he was going to be working at TM all day so I was going to try and lure him away for some lunch. But then Tig said he wasn't there. Do you know where he went?"

Jax hadn't thought much about Opie needing to take off for awhile - from time to time they all need to steal a few hours away from Clay and The Club. But he'd been surprised when his friend refused to say where he was going - even more surprised that he'd kept Tara in the dark as well, especially since they'd all assumed that Ope had snuck off to steal time alone with her. But since Brothers always cover each other's back, Jax's nods and mutters something about confidential Club business.

But not liking the pained disappointment that spreads across her face, Jax shoots her his best panty-dropping smile - which, by the way, has actually never worked on her. "Hey, if you really want to thank me…there's a park not far from here - I know Ope won't mind donating his lunch to me. And you, future doctor, wouldn't want anyone starving to death on your watch - least of all the great guy who dropped everything for you."

Brushing aside her frustration over her missing boyfriend, Tara beams at him - spiking his pulse like high speeds on his Harley - then climbs into the truck's passenger seat. "You got it, Teller."

The park's only about a mile away and, to Jax's relief, surprisingly deserted despite the warm spring day. Although it's not likely that anyone he knows would spot him alone with Opie's girl, he'd rather skip having to bark out the "none of your goddamn business" responses to any nosy questions - especially when it's too fucking easy to pretend that Tara's _his_ Old Lady - that they're the only two people in the world.

Basking in her bright smile as she takes in the lush green park, Jax leads her deep into the copse of trees. No, he doesn't want anyone or anything fucking up what could be his best day in years. Not that Jax's got any dark intentions being alone with Tara - he'd never hurt Opie like that; right now, he's just happy to have her all to himself while he eats lunch.

Unable to stop grinning like a fucking idiot, he unrolls the blanket from his bike and spreads it under a big oak tree. Turning to help her unpack the basket, he practically salivates over the aroma drifting from the thick juicy sandwiches and from the sight of her plump cleavage swelling above her halter top. Christ, he must be some kind of crazy fucking masochist, but he wouldn't budge from this spot even if a million AK-toting Mayans were aiming for his ass.

He quickly wolfs down two sandwiches and his share of pasta salad in record time - damn, that was good. Leaning back against the tree, Jax pops open another beer and frowns as he watches her pick at her lunch. "You not hungry?"

Tara drops the sandwich onto the paper plate and covers it with a napkin. Apparently not. "Has Opie told you that I'm thinking about going away to college?"

Shit. Jax really doesn't want to be poking around that festering sore and possibly expose his own panic that she might leave them. He could claim it's none of his fucking business - except that it's 100% his business. He doesn't want her moving hundreds of miles away, much less taking Opie with her. He gulps down half his beer then stares hard at her troubled face and bites the bullet. "Yeah, he told me you're thinking about moving east. He also told me that you asked him to go with you."

She looks away towards the trees in the distance. "Nothing's final yet, Jax. I still have a year of high school left…" Her gaze shifts back to him, her green eyes locking with his. "But yeah, I'm thinking about applying to a few schools in New York and New England. If I can get into an Ivy League university on a scholarship, I'd be crazy not to go."

Christ, he knew she was smart, smarter than anyone he's ever met…Could he be selfish enough to try and push her away from a stunningly bright future she could have as some Ivy League grad - away from a better life that she desperately wants? Fuck yeah.

"Tara, I'm a high school drop-out, and even I could tell you that some of the best colleges are right here. You don't have to run away because of your shit at home…" Since his grim, bone-breaking confrontation with her dad a couple months ago, Jax's made good on his offer to help Frank Knowles with his bar - for Tara's sake - along with continued threats of bloody murder should the motherfucker ever touch his daughter again. "And you don't need to turn into another person…I, uh, like you the way you are."

Those plump lips curve into a half smile. "You're such smooth-talker. No wonder all the girls are crazy for you." She swats at his knee, sending heat traveling up his leg and through the rest of him. But then her smile disappears as she regards him intently. "But it's not just about getting away, Jax…If I tell you something - promise you won't get mad."

She waits expectantly as he rolls his eyes then crosses his heart like a fifth grader. "I asked Opie to come with me because I don't want to lose him. I think that SAMCRO is pushing us apart. He's been spending so much time on runs and Club business, I never see him any more."

Sighing, Jax shakes his head as she echoes the same complaint broached by every female lucky (or unlucky) enough to ever hook up with a Son - except his mom. "Tara, no one's not trying to push you guys apart." Hoping every day that they break up doesn't fucking count. "The Club doesn't fuck around in a guy's personal shit. But you got to understand - earning a patch ain't no small thing; it's a lot of hard shit that can't be questioned or refused. Kind of like all those times you've disappeared on us - studying for some test or going off to some science fair."

Looking slightly abashed, Tara nods then drains her beer. "You're right. I know I'm being selfish - hoping that if Opie left with me, we could actually be together. I wouldn't have to share him anymore."

Christ, how the hell's he supposed to deal with hearing that the girl he adores more than anything sees him as nothing more than a third fucking wheel? Gritting his teeth, Jax battles back the urge to turn and slam his fist into the goddamn tree like some jealous asshole.

Except that he is a jealous asshole, one with a temper that always seems to lash out at the closest target. "And what about what Opie wants? What about the rest of us? You fucking need to understand that Ope's first priority has to be SAMCRO. It's part of him, like it's part of me. Better get on board with that, sweetheart, 'cause you nagging at him to leave the Club is a distraction - one that could get him, me or one of our Brothers hurt or killed." He guzzles down the rest of his beer, which doesn't do shit to douse his bitterness. "Not that you give a shit about anyone except him."

Tara's eyes widen with surprised hurt at his harsh attack before narrowing into cold green slits. "What the hell are you talking about, Jackson? I asked Opie to _think_ about leaving with me…I'm not _nagging_ at him to do shit." She shoves her untouched food and their empty beer bottles into a garbage bag. "And so-fucking-what if I'm distracting him from your precious motorcycle club - how could that possibly get him hurt? All you guys do is go on runs to find car parts for TM and to motorcycle shows. Excuse the fuck out of me for wanting more than that for him."

Like Jax and most of their Brothers, Opie's never told any of his girlfriends the real shit about SAMCRO. Piney'd taught him to avoid female complications and keep his pussy separate from Club business; even though Opie never thought of his women as "pussy" - especially Tara - he listened to his old man. Which was probably for the best. If Tara knew the truth about the guns and all the other shit the Sons do for the Club, she wouldn't just be thinking about leaving…her ass would be halfway to the East Coast before Jax could do a damn thing to stop it.

Clambering to her feet, she's about to stomp off to toss the bag and get the hell away from his stupid ass when he grabs her hand. Christ, sometimes he can be the biggest goddamn idiot on the planet. There's nothing more in his life that he looks forward to more than being with her - the past couple of hours had been the most fun he'd had in weeks, until he managed to fuck it up with his dumbshit temper.

"Tara…Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump all over you." Tightening his grip on her fingers, Jax summons his rarely-used contrite face and tugs her closer to him. "…especially since I promised I wouldn't get mad. I know I can be a real dick sometimes."

Scowling, she resists his pull for a second before tossing the bag aside and plopping down beside him on the blanket. "It's not just sometimes..." she mutters. "But you meant what you said - that Opie has to put SAMCRO first. If I do wind up going away to school, you don't think he'll leave with me."

Jax probably should let go of her hand - but it's too soft, too warm, too much of a perfect fit wrapped in his. Instead, he twines their fingers and stares into the gorgeous face that'll be entrenched in his brain until the day he dies. "I don't know, Tara. It's a big ask - making him choose between two things he loves, you or The Club."

Once again, her troubled gaze drifts towards the trees. "Maybe that's the problem…Opie doesn't love me."

"Now that's crazy-ass talk," Jax barks with laughter. "Tara, you're beautiful and smart as hell." He brushes a strand of hair from her face and cups her smooth cheek. "A man would have to be a fucking idiot not to love you…and Ope's no idiot." And, unfortunately for Jax's sanity, neither is he.

Tugging her hand from his, Tara wraps her arms around his neck. "Thanks, Jax," she whispers in his ear. Then pulling away, she blinds him with that dazzling smile that sends his pulse racing. "And for the record…Opie isn't the only one I 'give a shit' about. If I left, I'd miss you, too."

Warmth rushes through him as he fights back the urge to crush her against him and devour that luscious pink mouth. "Then don't go anywhere," he murmurs hoarsely, brushing his lips against her velvety soft cheek then staring deep into those hypnotic green eyes. "Please."

Biting her plump lip, she stares back at him - a pink flush spreading across her face, just like a few weeks ago when she'd welcomed him home with the exuberance of a woman excited to see the man she loves. Jesus Christ, if only...

"Jax, I…"

"Jax! Jax! Where are you?" Lowell's shout pierces the air and the moment. Tara's eyes widen in shock before she scrambles away from him while Jax makes a mental note to beat the goddamn shit out of his soon-to-be-dead ex-friend.

Rising to his feet, he stomps towards the sound of Lowell's stupid voice until he spots the dumbfuck headed towards him. "I'm right here, asshole. You want to tell me what the fuck you're doing following me?"

"Gemma sent me to find you…" Lowell must've sensed Jax's fury ratcheting up another thousand degrees because he holds up his hands in self-preservation. "It's Piney…they took him to the hospital. He had a heart attack…"


	5. When You Bite Your Lip

**AN: Some of you have mentioned that the slow burn is tough to take (and my slow writing probably doesn't help). But trust me, we'll get where you want to go next chapter. I outlined ten chapters, and we're halfway done now. This chapter's key in setting up the back half of the story.**

* * *

 **When You Bite Your Lip**

"What the hell happened?" Jax rushes into the hospital sitting room where he finds his mom, Clay and the rest of SAMCRO - minus Opie - waiting for updates on Piney.

Clay shakes his head. "One minute the old bastard's yelling at one of the guys about some dumb shit…the next thing we know, he's on the fucking ground. The docs are working on him now."

"But he's going to be okay, right?" Tara clutches Jax's arm, her green eyes wet with tears. Over the past few years, she and Piney developed a tight bond. Even on his best day Piney could be a total asshole but never to Tara; the gruff old guy's always had a soft spot for his son's girlfriend - repeatedly telling Opie to keep Tara happy or he'd get disowned for being too fucking stupid.

"He'll be fine," Gemma replies coolly, skewering both Jax and Tara with an accusatory glare sharp enough to cut glass. "Where's Opie?"

Glaring back at her, Jax steps in front of Tara in a weak attempt to shield her from his mom's palpable anger at seeing them together. Usually Gemma manages to hide her displeasure at seeing him with Tara from everyone except him, but - given the fury radiating off her in waves - it's as if she knows how close Jax came to fucking over his best friend. His Brothers glance at her questioningly but then must've attributed her temper as concern for Piney and continue talking quietly in the corner.

"He had some shit to take care of." Somehow Jax manages to remember that he'd lied to Tara about Opie leaving TM for Club business - a lie he can't repeat in front of his Brothers, including SAMCRO's President, who've got no clue where the other Prospect had gone. "I sent Lowell back to TM to tell Ope to come here once he gets back."

It's another hour before a pale and panicked Opie charges into the hospital hollering for anyone to update him on his dad's condition. One of the doctors, whose name Jax can't remember, tells him that Piney's in surgery and that it'd be another couple of hours before they can assess his prognosis.

They all take turns hugging their distraught friend, mumbling words of positive encouragement, that Piney's too stubborn to allow this shit take him out. But it's Tara who manages to wipe the worry from Opie's face. She whispers softly in his ear before leading him to sit on a nearby couch with her.

Gritting his teeth, Jax feels like the biggest fucking asshole on the planet, but it's a goddamn struggle to keep from scowling as Opie wraps his arms around Tara and presses his face against her shoulder. Watching her stroke Opie's hair and press kisses to the top of his head, Jax clenches his fist so tight he can feel his short fingernails digging into his palms. Christ.

"Jackson…" He feels his mothers hand on his shoulder and closes his eyes before turning towards her, bracing himself for the livid censure he expects to see on her face. It can't be great for a mother to know that her son's the most selfish, insensitive prick alive. Instead, the sympathy in her expression shocks him; for years, she's been railing at him to stay away from Tara - now, it's almost his undoing to know she understands just how much he hurts.

Somehow Jax manages a small smile. "I'm okay, Mom," he murmurs softly so that none of his Brothers can hear. There's no fucking way he wants them knowing that the pain he's feeling now isn't just about Piney.

She remains silent and pulls him into a hug - although it's clear from the doubt creasing her forehead that she doesn't believe him. Not that he can blame her; feeling the burn in his gut as he sneaks another glance at Opie and Tara cuddled together, he doesn't believe himself either.

* * *

"I'm not eating that fucking shit…Get me a drink or get the fuck out!"

Piney's not exactly what anyone would call a model patient, but they're all so relieved that he pulled through that everyone's putting up with worse-than-usual bad-tempered shit - although Jax's about at his breaking point, barely managing to dodge the bowl of broth the nasty old fucker just hurled at his head. "Goddamn it, Piney! That soup's hot - you almost burned me."

"Well I missed so not sure what you're bitching about, Little Boy," Piney sneers, sinking back against his pillows - clearly still sorely pissed by the forced bed rest. After a couple of day's worth of tests and observation, his doctor had cleared him to go home - probably because the hospital staff couldn't stand another second of the mean son-of-a-bitch. However, someone still has to stay with him at all times, meaning that they're all taking turns helping out Opie else the two Winston men kill each other. That is if Jax doesn't wind up strangling Piney himself.

"Piney Winston!" Standing in the doorway, Tara glares menacingly at their bedridden burden. "Jax and everyone's gone to a lot of trouble so you don't starve to death… So help me, if you throw any more food at anyone - I'm going to feed you Luanne's tofu casserole."

The cranky old goat glowers back at her but refrains from spewing the abusive tirade that he barks at everyone else. Jax shakes his head, watching with amazed amusement as Piney tries to hide a smile while pretending to grudgingly tolerate Tara fussing about him. Was there a man alive who didn't fall at her feet?

"Opie and I just went to the Farmers' Market and got a bunch of fresh vegetables," she announces happily, fluffing his pillow. "He's cutting them up now, then I'm going to make you a great big salad - and you're going to eat all of it."

"Salad's are for pussies," Piney snorts, but they all know he'll do what she tells him. No one - not even Opie or Mary - could command the older Winston's obedience better than Tara. Tig had once joked that if Opie didn't keep an eye on his old man, Tara could wind up becoming his step-mom. Opie hadn't been amused - neither had Jax, who'd "accidently" poured coffee in the asshole's lap.

"Speaking of pussy, you won't be getting any if you don't get better," Jax warns, smirking when Tara rolls her eyes.

"Well we all can't be you," Piney chuckles. "Always fucking two broads at the same time…one just ain't enough for you any more. Even your old man would've been impressed."

Like any red-blooded male, Jax loves sex - never turning down the opportunity for an easy fuck and never apologizing for any of his excesses. Shit, chasing pussy was an integral part of MC life. However, as Tara stiffens and wrinkles her nose, he feels his ears grow hot. "Christ, Piney," he hisses. "Shut the fuck up."

But the damage's done as he must've sunk to new lows in her mind; for the rest of the day she barely looks at him, responding to his attempts to talk to her with clipped answers or silent shrugs. It's not until Opie and Piney leave for a late afternoon doctor's appointment that he finally gets his chance to corner her.

"I'm going to stick around and clean up," she informs him coolly, walking towards the kitchen. "You don't have to stay."

Stepping in front of her, he stares into those uncharacteristically blank green eyes - usually they're always sparkling with humor or mischief or temper; he prefers anything to the guarded coldness that's chilling him to the bone. "What the hell's wrong with you? Are you actually pissed over what Piney said?"

"There's nothing wrong with me. I don't give a shit about Piney said, you egomaniac," she snaps. "Where you stick your dick is none of my business." She sidesteps him, heading for the sink.

He grabs her arm and whirls her around. "Bullshit. Come on Tara, it's nothing - they're nothing." Which, apparently, was the wrong fucking thing to say as she crosses her arms and glares at him. Frustrated, he shoves his hands in his pockets and regards her speculatively. "When did you start caring about who I fuck?"

Yanking her arm from his clutches, she shakes her head and steps away from him. "I said, I don't care!" She wets a dish cloth and starts wiping down the spotless counter. "It's not just you, Jax…It's all of it - the way all you guys treat women."

Jax leans against the fridge to study her; she can't possibly be serious with this shit. "We're not talking about blushing virgins here, Tara. Croweaters and sweet butts know what they're getting into when they hang with us. They're pussy…nothing more and nothing less. You know that."

"So we're all just sex toys to you then." She narrows her eyes at him.

Rolling his eyes, Jax belts out a short, hard laugh. "Did you not just witness Piney Winston nearly scald me with a bowl of soup then turn around and practically lick your feet? He and Opie think the sun fucking rises and sets in a shit-hole called Rio Vista because of you. You're not some cheap croweater to them, Tara. And not to any of the guys in the Club."

She bites her lip before peering at him from under thick black lashes. "What about you?" she asks so softly he can barely hear her. "Piney wasn't exaggerating, was he? All those women…Don't you care about anyone?"

Holy shit, how the fuck does he answer that question without revealing what he's fought so hard to hide since she first showed up at TM and knocked his goddamn world off its axis? There's no way in hell that he could tell her that - in his mind - all the sex he's had in the past couple of year has been with her.

Shrugging, he lights a cigarette to scour his brain for some coherent response. "I care a lot for some people. But if you're asking me if there's someone I've got tapped to be my Old Lady when I patch in, the answer's no…We can't all be lucky like you and Opie." Jax hopes that doesn't sound as bitter as it feels coming out of his mouth.

Her expression softens. "You're such a good guy, Jax - most of the time. One day you'll find someone." She brushes his hand. "And she'll be really, really lucky."

* * *

He and Opie finally, finally patch in on a warm spring night. It's the absolute best night of his life.

Jax grins at his best friend as they slip on their new cuts for the first time. His smile grows broader when Opie pulls him into a hug then stands beside him as the Clubhouse erupts with wild cheers. This is it…everything he's wanted for so long: the Reaper tat on his back - just inked a couple of hours ago - and Redwood Original patches on his chest.

Well not everything…his smile falters a little as Tara leaps into Opie's arms. Pasting an amused smirk on his face, he tries to ignore the jealousy clawing at his gut when Opie kisses her soundly amid a chorus of whistles and catcalls. Suddenly, he feels someone grip his hand.

"I need to talk to you," his mother hisses. She drags him into the empty chapel and slams the door behind her. "I've been telling you for years that you need to snap out of this shit you've got for your Brother's woman."

"Mom…"

Her expression hardens as she clutches his cut. "Opie didn't just get a patch today…Tara's _his_ Old Lady now. Soon she'll be wearing _his_ crow…and that's just the beginning. One day, he's going to _marry_ her." She cups his face. "So far you've been able to hide what you feel from them - from everyone. But how long's that going to last? Lowell already caught you alone with her…you're just lucky he's too stupid to put anything together. It's just a matter of time before someone with a brain figures it out…maybe even Opie or Tara. You're not as good an actor as you think."

Jax jerks away from her and slams his hand against the wall. "Stop! Just stop it, Mom. I keep telling you, this is not your business. I know what I'm doing." Christ, he's such a fucking liar.

"Really?" Gemma stalks towards him until she's in his face. "Just a few minutes ago you looked like a kicked puppy. You know she loves Opie. Why do you keep torturing yourself? You're Jackson Teller…You can have anyone. Except her. I told you before - you have to stay away from her…for your sake, and for the Club."

She must've seen something in his face that causes her to back down and change tack. "I'm so proud of you, Jackson." She fingers the patches on his new cut. "This is what your father wanted for you…where you belong. And one day it will all belong to you and, eventually, your sons."

Sighing, he leans in to kiss her on the cheek. "Thanks, Mom. But you know that I'd never do anything to hurt Opie. You got to let me handle my shit, my way. Okay?"

She hesitates then nods. "Okay, Baby. Just make sure you handle it."

" _Stay away from her…for your sake, and for the Club."  
_ Easier said than done, she's fucking everywhere - his eyes can't stop drifting to her, his mind can't stop anticipating when he'll go over and talk to her. It's been a little over six months since their picnic lunch, and despite how busy he's been, he can't stop mentally wandering back to that stolen afternoon with her.

 _Biting her plump lip, she stares back at him - a pink flush spreading across her face, just like a few weeks ago when she'd welcomed him home with the exuberance of a woman excited to see the man she loves. Jesus Christ, if only..._

 _"Jax, I…"_

He never got to find out what she'd wanted to say - thanks to fucking Lowell and then to the busy turn their lives took after that day. With Piney down and unable to ride, SAMCRO consumed all of Jax's time and attention. And Tara, already busy with school and her job at the bookshop, still managed to help Piney in her free time.

She told him that she'd miss him if she went away to college - that must mean she cares about him; could she even love him a little? Not that he could do shit about it though, he could never do that to Opie. No matter how much he wanted.

Shit. He needs to find a croweater and get the hell away from the party for a little while. At the sound of a female calling his name, he turns around - ready to haul her, if she's hot, into the dorm room for a quick fuck. But his trademark panty-dropping smile fades as he recognizes her.

"Hey Donna," he greets listlessly. There's no fucking way he's nailing her, not even with full make-up and dressed in a little micro-skirt and halter top. He's always liked Donna, but he'd feel like a fucking pedophile since all he can see when he looks at her is a little girl with pigtails and braces following him and Opie around - although not so much anymore since her pastor father would rather set his bible on fire than have his daughter running around with the town's outlaw MC. The last time Donna showed up at a Club party, her dad grounded her for a month then fearlessly warned Clay and Piney of town retribution if they ever allowed her back into 'Satan's cesspool.' "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I wanted to support Opie." She cranes her head, as if trying to find him in the swarming mass of bodies. Giving up, she eyes his new cut. "…and you. Congratulations on getting your patch."

"Thanks. Are you here by yourself?" Jax mentally groans; Clay's going to lose his shit if he knew the preacher's daughter just walked into a rowdy Patch-in celebration alone.

She shakes her head and nods in the direction of two high school girls in similar scanty attire talking to Kyle and Lowell. "I came here with some friends. Do you know where Opie is? He told me it'd be okay to come."

"Probably with Tara," he mutters, not wanting to think about how he'd want to celebrate with her. "Come on, let's go get a drink."

" _Stay away from her…for your sake, and for the Club."  
_ The party's been in full swing for a few hours before he finally succumbs to the lure of her. He'd quickly banged some faceless redhead in the hallway half an hour ago, but it'd done nothing to solve the want still churning through him. He finds her at the bar tossing back shots with a bunch of guys, including Kozik and Happy from the Tacoma charter.

"Hey you!" She giggles, catching sight of him. "Where've you been all night?" Judging from the singsong lilt to her voice, she's more than a little tipsy.

Glaring murderously at Kozik - who's got his arm around her, Jax grabs Tara's hand and pulls her towards him. "Where's Opie?"

Peering up at him through glassy green eyes, she pouts slightly. "He left to take Donna home. Her friends took off without her…those bitches."

What the fuck? How the hell could Opie leave his own party - worse, leave his drunk girlfriend in the care of some even drunker bikers? Christ, Happy's a stone-cold killer and Kozik - Jax's always liked the guy, but not when the goddamn fucker's gazing at Tara like a starving man drooling over a juicy piece of meat. Asshole. Jax tightens his grip on her hand to keep from leaping on his Brother and gouging his fucking eyes out.

"Come on, Tara." He shoots one more withering glance at Kozik before turning towards the door, tugging her along with him. "We'll wait for Opie outside."

But instead of joining the revelers partying in the TM lot, he leads her up the narrow flight of stairs to the rooftop. Fortunately, it's deserted as no one really goes up there except him. Lighting a joint, he takes a hit before handing it to her.

"Are you mad at me or something?" She twirls the joint with her fingers. "You look all grouchy."

Running his hand through his hair, Jax stares at the luscious brunette sitting on the ground in front of him, those endlessly long legs stretched out in front of her. Even in the dim light, her saucy smile electrifies him. Yeah, he'd been pissed finding her alone with his Brothers - it's weird since she's been hanging out at the Clubhouse for years, but seeing Kozik draped around her had infuriated him. But there's no fucking way he's telling her that.

"Who me?" Flashing a cocky smile, he drops down to sit next to her. "I'm never mad."

She giggles again, sending a pleasurable heat coursing through him. Christ, more than anything he wants to devour her sexy, sassy mouth. His hands itch to glide across the velvety soft skin on her arms, her face…and everywhere he can uncover once he pulls off her dark blue tank top, her jeans…Shit, he must've been out of his mind to take her up here; his dick's ready to bust through his fly.

"So I took your advice." She takes a hit off the joint then passes it to him. "I applied to a few colleges close to here. If I can get a scholarship, then I won't be far away. Isn't that great?"

Transfixed by glowing happiness on her gorgeous face, he almost drops the weed dangling from his fingers. "Yeah," he practically whispers. It's what he wanted - for her to stay in his life. But will he be strong enough to deal with what that actually means? _"Tara's his Old Lady now. Soon she'll be wearing his crow…and that's just the beginning. One day, he's going to marry her."_

"Are you sure you're not mad? You're making that mean face again."

Hell yeah, he's fucking mad - pissed at the world that he hadn't met her before Opie. "Tara, I got patched-in today; it's what I've wanted since I was a little kid. So I'm definitely not mad."

She regards him thoughtfully; even drunk, Tara still smarter than anyone he knows. "Maybe you should consider doing something more?" Oh he wants more, no doubt about that - doing it could get him killed by his best friend.

"Like what?" Puzzled, he takes a puff off the joint; there's nothing he can do besides outlaw and fix motorcycles. "Let me guess, you want me to run off to college with you," he laughs.

But she doesn't laugh back. "You're so smart, Jax - and you're a gifted writer. You could do it, you know…"

The loud roar of a motorcycle cuts through the music and other party noise. Both relieved to sidestep this landmine topic and annoyed that his time with her is about to get cut short, Jax cranes his neck to peer down into the lot. "Looks like Ope's back…Although I still can't believe he took off and left you with those knuckleheads."

Rolling her eyes, she takes a hit off the joint then passes it to him. "I can handle myself, Teller. Besides, I told you - he had to take Donna home because her friends left with the car." She looks at him oddly. "Do you think she's pretty?"

"Who, Donna?" Staring into those gorgeous green eyes, Jax can't remember what Donna even looks like. "She's okay, I guess." For a moment he's confused as to why she'd ask until it hits him. "You can't possibly be worried about Donna with Opie," he laughs. "She's just a kid…Besides, why would Opie be interested in her when he's got a smoking hot girlfriend like you?" Oh shit, maybe he shouldn't have said that - at least not so forcefully.

" _It's just a matter of time before someone with a brain figures it out…maybe even Opie or Tara. You're not as good an actor as you think."_

Any self-doubt vanishes as she beams at him - and then blows his mind into bits when she presses her lips against his in a short, breathtaking kiss. "Thanks, Jax," she whispers against his mouth.

But before he can gather his scattered brain cells, before he can grab her and finally claim her as his - to hell with everything, she jumps up and scampers down the stairs to greet her boyfriend. Holy fucking shit. Still dazed, Jax licks his lips, savoring the delicious taste of her. What the hell's he going to do now?

Jax doesn't know how long he sits there alone finishing the joint. Almost reluctantly, he scoots closer to the edge of the roof and looks down at the party, scanning the throng until he spots her - standing close to Opie as she laughs at some story Piney's telling them. Opie, Piney and Tara - future family.

"… _you need to snap out of this shit you've got for your Brother's woman"  
_ He's tried everything - throwing himself into the Club, booze, weed, pussy - but she's too deeply entrenched in every part of him. Something tells him that he'll be wanting her until the day he dies.

" _Stay away from her…for your sake, and for the Club."  
_ " _Soon she'll be wearing his crow…and that's just the beginning. One day, he's going to marry her."  
_ Now Jax knows there's no fucking way he'd ever be able to watch her marry Opie, build a life with him, have his kids. He'd wind up killing someone. For the first time in his life, he thinks about going Nomad.


	6. Some Reaction to Love

**AN: Once again, I'm so sorry for the delayed update. I could blame it all on work (and it was an extremely busy month), but to be honest I've had a hard time with motivation. This story's been outlined for a while, but working on the outline for my next J/T story keeps reminding me of how much I totally hated Jax towards the end (and I even refused to watch or read about S7). But then I reminded myself why I write and read FF – to erase all the bad shit that destroyed my favorite couple and pretend that SOA ended with the season 4 finale (which I didn't love either). Ok, rant over. Hope you enjoy :-)**

* * *

 **Some Reaction to Love**

With the outlaw life Jax and his SAMCRO Brothers have chosen, it's a given that they'd regularly cross paths with some of the biggest pricks alive, completely fucked-up assholes who don't give a shit about anyone or anything except themselves and sometimes not even that. Shit, Jax's first (and only) kill, he'd emptied a full clip into a pair of coked-up skinheads who'd attacked him and Bobby with chainsaws while trying to steal SAMCRO's new shipment of AK's. Goddamn fucking idiots. But despite his violent tendencies, neither ending those worthless lives nor beating the shit out countless fuckers over the years had been personal - save one.

Jax's blood still boils with murderous fury at the thought of Frank Knowles and how he'd brutalized Tara for so much of her life. Although she never talks about her old man, the damage that vicious son-of-a-bitch inflicted still marks her - evident to anyone who knows where to look. The two faint scars on her back could've happened from wrecking her bike when she was ten like she claimed…or getting lashed repeatedly with a man's heavy belt. Burning herself with a curling iron could've caused the slightly raised ridge at the base of her scalp…or getting slammed against a wall so hard it cut her head open.

But as much as the physical reminders of her abuse enrage him, the psychological effects scare the absolute shit out of him. No fragile flower, Tara can be a bad-ass bitch who can bring it and take it better than most - but she's got limits. If anyone crosses that line with her - thanks to that piss poor excuse for a father - she'll shut down in self-preservation mode faster than anyone Jax's ever seen, freezing out everyone until she feels safe enough to emerge from her shell. It's only happened a couple of times, both during fights with Opie, but Jax suffered through it as well - hating how easily she could distance herself from them, worrying that she might not come back.

Yet despite the hundreds of times he's wanted to savagely murder Tara's old man, Jax hasn't done shit to him since breaking the bastard's hand with a wrench the night they met - partly because it seems that the fucker actually heeded Jax's warning not to touch Tara again, but mainly because he knows she'd hate him for hurting her dad. And there's no fucking way Jax would risk alienating her, even though no one deserves a vicious beat-down more than goddamn Frank Knowles.

However, Jax'll never get that chance now - hell came for the prick before Jax could send him there. Not long after Tara's eighteenth birthday, some drunk high school kids crashed their pick-up truck into her dad as he was stumbling home from his bar. The irony of that would've been laughable except for the anguished pain on Tara's face when the Rio Vista police officers tracked her down at the Clubhouse to deliver the news.

"Are you sure you won't reconsider moving to Charming for awhile? We've got room for you at our house." Jax's eye's narrow with suspicion as his mom envelops Tara in a hug. After all the warnings she's leveled at him to stay away from his best friend's girl, it's kind of a mindfuck to see her offer Tara a bedroom down the hall from his. "You really shouldn't be alone here."

Taking charge in typical Queen mode, Gemma's spent the past few days helping with all the burial arrangements, including the short graveside service that they all just attended - despite the fact that none of them, save him and Opie, had ever met the man. But even though the funeral's over, Gemma's not quite done fussing over the newly-orphaned Tara Knowles.

Piney's not quite as diplomatic. "Pack your shit," he orders gruffly, hugging her tight once she moved away from Gemma. "You're staying at our place. That's not negotiable, Little Girl."

Stepping back, Tara shakes her head and offers them all a strained smile - the first since learning about her father's death. "Thanks, I really appreciate everything all of you have done for me. But I need to stay here - there's a lot to handle with settling all of dad's affairs. Besides, I can't afford to miss any more school."

As if sensing that Tara's at the end of her rope, Opie drapes an arm around her shoulder. "I'm going to take her home now," he announces firmly, staring down Piney and Gemma before either can protest. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Shoving his hands into his pocket, Jax watches Opie lead her to his bike. He feels so goddamn fucking useless; unable to say or do anything to help her, incapable of reaching her through the frozen wall she's built around herself. Not that he's had the chance; since RVPD broke the news of Frank Knowles' death, Tara's been surrounded non-stop by the Winstons - Opie, Piney and Mary. Shit, even Gemma's been able to spend more time with her than he has.

At the cemetery for the funeral, Jax couldn't hug her as tight or as long as he wanted - aware of all the eyes on her and Opie hovering like a fucking mother hen. But he likes to think that her gaze lingered on him as she said goodbye to everyone, wants to believe that she knows how badly he feels for her - not necessarily because her jackass old man's dead, but because he hates to see her hurt.

"It's going to be okay, Tara," he whispers as he watches her climb onto the back of Opie's bike then ride away.

* * *

"So is Tara coming here for the weekend?" Gemma demands as Opie walks into the TM office. "She really shouldn't be by herself."

Jax's ears perk up; he can't help but sit up in his chair and stare expectantly at his friend, hoping Opie'll give them the answer that Jax's been dying to hear. It's been a week since they put Frank Knowles into the ground, and Tara's yet to set foot back in Charming - not that anyone can blame her, given all the shit she's got to handle settling her dad's affairs in addition to school and her job at the bookstore.

But fuck, he misses her like hell; there's nothing he wouldn't give to see those sparkling green eyes and heart-stopping smile, hear her laugh and talk about books or give one of his Brothers shit. He'd long since abandoned his rash idea of going Nomad because - despite the near-unbearable pain of watching Tara and Opie together, knowing where their shared futures were headed - Jax can't stand to be away from her.

It didn't help that the Irish chose this week to show up in town to discuss a new gun deal. So even if Tara had shown up, no one would've had the time to spend with her - least of all Jax and Opie, the two newest patches, who pretty much had to play slave bitch to those leprechaun assholes. Although Jax knows he would've found the time to be with her, even if he had to kick a shitload of ass to do it.

Opie shakes his head. "She's wants to work this weekend, even though her boss said she could have the time off. I told her I would help her with money, but she won't listen." His tone drips with annoyance, never having been a fan of Tara's mile-wide independent streak. "Anyway, she's not alone. Mom's looking in on her."

"And we all know how great she is at looking after kids," Gemma snaps. The two Old Ladies of the First 9 might've been friends at one point, but their polar differences about everything from Club loyalty to child-rearing eventually drove them into two hostile camps. As a kid, Jax used to envy the freedom that Ope had, not having a mother that stuck her nose into every fucking thing. "Are you going out there?"

Once again Opie shakes his head. "Nope. Since we're all riding out to Oakland with the Irish later tonight, I need to stick around here just in case." His eyes slide to Jax. "But I do need to take off for a couple hours to deal with some shit. Can you let Clay know?"

"Sure thing, Bro." Jax nods, rising to leave along with his friend. He's spent enough time in this cramped little office getting probed by his mom about the meetings with the Irish and the upcoming trip to Oakland. He told her what he could and side-stepped around the rest; she can get that from her husband, the fucking MC Pres. And if Opie's not going to Rio Vista…

But apparently Gemma's not done with him. Jumping to her feet, she grabs his arm before he can follow Opie out the door. "Where are you going, Jackson?"

Christ, it fucking sucks that his mom can read him so easily. Pretending to be puzzled by her question, he just shrugs. "Nowhere. Thought I'd go for a ride before heading home to pack for the run."

Narrowing her eyes at him, she tightens her grip on his arm. "Don't bullshit me. You're going to see her, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jax pulls away from her grasp. Then realization finally hits him - the reason behind her sudden concern for Tara; hits him like a goddamn cement truck. "Wow, you really had me fooled there for a while…All that time you spent helping Tara deal with her dad's funeral arrangements, I thought you were just playing your role as Queen Bee. And when you offered to let her stay with us, I was actually dumb enough to believe you gave a shit about her."

"I do care…"

He interrupts her with a bitter laugh. "When will I ever learn that there's always a self-serving angle with you? You asked her to move in with us so you could always keep an eye on her. When that didn't work, you kept pushing Opie and Piney to go see her or bring her here 'so she wouldn't be alone.' What is it, Gemma? Did you think that I'd be so turned on by her grief that I'd lose control and try to fuck my best friend's Old Lady? Or that she'd be so caught up in her misery that she'd let me?"

"Jax…"

"Save it. When you see Clay, give him Opie's message. And tell him I'm going for a ride. I'll be back in time for Church."

* * *

Tara wasn't at the bookstore or at home, and her dad's bar was still locked up. After scouring the small shit town (which took a whopping eight minutes), Jax finds her where he probably should've looked in the first place.

"Hey." Plopping down on the grass next to her, he glances at the grave markers for Frank and Grace Knowles before fixing his gaze on their newly orphaned daughter. "You okay?" It's a pretty dumbass question given the circumstances, but he's got no clue about what else to say. Just that he wants to be here with her.

She doesn't seem surprised to see him, remaining silent for a moment while continuing to gaze at her parents' graves. "I'm okay," she tells him quietly. "Now you can go tell Opie and Piney and your mom."

"Maybe I wanted to see for myself." Although there's definitely no "maybe" about it.

Tilting her head, she regards him questioningly. "I thought you guys were tied up this week with work." There's an odd hollowness to her voice that he's not heard before, but then again they're in uncharted waters here; he's never seen such emptiness in her eyes.

"Yeah, some new business came into town, kept us pretty busy. We're riding out later tonight, but I wanted to check in before we go. You need anything?"

She shakes her head then turns her attention back to the grave markers. "You're a good guy, Jax. I know your dad would've been proud of you."

Taken aback by the sudden reference to his old man, Jax stares at her. She's known him long enough to know what John Teller meant - not only to the Club he founded, but also to his only surviving son. Yet somehow, Jax knows that - despite her words - she's not thinking about him and his old man.

"You know it wasn't always so…rough…between me and my dad." She rests her chin on her knees, hugging her legs tight against her chest. "When I was little - before my mom died - he used to take me to the ice cream parlor for a scoop of dark chocolate ice cream every day before I had a test. He read somewhere that dark chocolate helps brain power. So he used to tell me that even though I was the smartest kid on the planet, he wanted to do his part to help me get an A."

Jax shifts uncomfortably, struggling to think of anything to say - what could he possibly fucking say when the memory of Tara's battered face, courtesy of that brutal prick, would forever be etched in his memory?

"Then mom died, and everything changed. He loved her so much…nothing mattered to him after she was gone. I used to wrack my brain every night, thinking of ways to get him to love me again, like he did when I was little. But nothing worked…it didn't matter that I got straight A's or that I took care of everything for him while he spent all his time at his bar."

Despite her impassive tone and blank expression, Jax can feel the hurt radiating off her in waves - exposing some of his own pain that he'd believed long buried. He digs his fingers into the grass to keep from grabbing her and squeezing tight.

"Let me guess…" No longer able to resist touching her, Jax tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "You thought that if you got into a really good college and medical school then became a successful doctor, things with your dad would get better. Sound familiar?"

For a second she bristles, then her shoulders slump as she faces him. "Too familiar. I know it's stupid, but…"

"No, it's not. Unless we're both stupid." He sucks in a breath as she raises a brow questioningly; Christ, he's never wanted to talk about this. "I loved my old man - wanted to be just like him. But despite what you might've heard - and I know Piney can spin some good JT fairy tales - there were times when he was pretty much shit as a father."

He's got her attention now as her pink mouth drops open in shock. "Like your dad, he was great when I was a little kid. My best days were when he'd take me for rides on his bike or when he'd bring me to TM and the Clubhouse with him. But then he started taking these long trips to Ireland…there'd be stretches when we wouldn't see him for months. I used to hang out in our front yard every day after school, waiting for him to come home so we could for a ride on his bike…"

To his surprise, he feels her soft hand rest atop his; without hesitating, he weaves his fingers through hers. "And after Tommy died…he never went back to Ireland, but he might as well have because we barely ever saw him. When he wasn't gone on Club business, he'd ride off alone for days or lock himself in his study. He checked out on us."

He brushes her cheek with his thumb, savoring the velvety softness of her skin. "But the most important thing is that - after he was gone - I knew I still had people in my life who loved me and had my back no matter what. Just like you do, Tara."

She smiles slowly as her green eyes grow misty. "Thanks, Jax," she whispers before laying her head on his shoulder, burrowing closer to him as he wraps his arm around her and squeezes tight.

* * *

Although Jax may not look like his old man, there's no doubt to anyone who knew them both that the son's most defining qualities passed down from the father. Certainly the love for the open road, both with body and mind - sharing the same deep-rooted passion for riding and never-ending thirst for knowledge not mandated or curated by schools or mass media. Definitely the innate skill to lead - both men could captivate and motivate anyone of any age.

And then there's the infamous Teller temper - lightning quick and hot as hell, such explosive fury could incite wars if not immediately contained. Jax knows the damage his short fuse could wreak and tries his best to rein it in, especially around Tara; he's never wanted her to see him in the same light as her vicious old man. But sometimes there's nothing he can fucking do but give into the rage.

"What the fuck did you say?" Jax slams the Prospect into the brick wall, his fingers curling into fists as he grips the new guy's cut.

Juan Carlos' dark eyes nearly bug out of their sockets in shock and a little fear. "I…uh…I said I'm going to check up on Tara…while she's working at her bar." When Jax continues to glare murderously, Juice points towards the Clubhouse. "Piney told me to…He's had me go there that past couple of nights…to make sure she's okay - so that no one gives her any shit."

Jesus Christ. She'd been talking about re-opening her dad's bar for extra money, something that Opie and Jax had vehemently shot down as too dangerous for an eighteen-year-old girl to do by herself. Her dad's bar is a shithole, which makes it a magnet for all sorts of lowlifes - both home grown and drifters - who'd be drawn to the only bar in town and a hot babe like Tara. She'd crossed her arms and told them both to fuck off, but he hadn't heard that she'd actually gone through with her batshit stupid idea - until now. Fucking Little Miss Independent.

"Goddamn it," Jax hisses, slamming his hand against the wall next to the Prospect's head. Opie just left on some overnight trip with Kyle, and Piney…fucking Piney couldn't say no to Tara if she told him she wanted a cut and a seat at the Reaper table. Instead, the old man's been sending the Prospect out to help her - without telling Opie or Jax, no doubt on Tara's orders. "Let's go. I'm coming with you."

Juice regards him warily before nodding - like he's got a fucking choice.

Usually nothing could clear Jax's head and calm him down better than ripping through an open road at high speeds. But now, even hitting a 100 mph doesn't wipe out the anger and worry boiling his blood. After hooking Frank up with a friend-of-the-Club liquor distributor, Jax checked the asshole's progress from time to time - just to make sure most of the profits took care of Tara instead of just polluting her old man's liver. Unfortunately, it also gave him a good view of the scumbags that frequented the place late at night. The idea of Tara alone with that shit…

Storming into the bar, Jax feels his temper ratchet up another thousand degrees at the sight of Tara, dressed in a wispy lace-up tank top and denim mini-skirt, chatting up a trio of drooling assholes. Then her gaze locks with his - once again causing his pulse to jolt and dick to twitch with interest, but this time his usual reaction to her just pisses him off even more.

"Jax, what are you doing here?" She shoots a baleful glare at Juice - who slinks to the other end of the bar in attempt to turn invisible - before turning her annoyed attention back to Jax. "Is Opie with you?" Her eyes narrow as she looks past him to the empty doorway. "I don't have time to fight with you guys about this right now, I'm working."

He shakes his head, stalking towards her. "No, Babe. You're done." Ignoring her protests, Jax hoists her over his shoulder like the sexiest bag of potatoes ever - igniting an explosion of furious shrieks and curses as she pummels his back with her fists. He secures her thrashing long legs with his arms before they could do permanent damage to his future sex life.

"Goddamn it, Jax! You can't fucking do this - put me down, you asshole!"

Ignoring her, he glares at her three wide-eyed, open-mouthed customers. "Don't forget to pay for your drinks. If Tara comes up short tonight, I'll come after you to collect. Trust me, you don't want that to happen."

Stomping towards the backdoor, he grabs her bag then tosses the bar keys he swiped from the register to Juice. "Prospect, you've got the bar. Don't wait for me - just close up when these idiots leave."

Once outside, he frowns as he scans the near-empty parking lot. "Where's your car? Don't fucking tell me you walked." Although she only lives a couple blocks away, it infuriates him to think of her walking home alone late at night - especially after what happened to her old man.

She continues to slap and punch his back. "Put. Me. Down!" she screeches. "Now!"

Jax looks ruefully at his bike; given her current state of writhing fury, there's no way he'll get her to ride bitch behind him. Sighing, he heads towards her house, tossing warning glares at the few people startled enough by Tara's shouting to poke their heads outside to watch them. However, typical of this lazy little town, no one did shit - just like when Old Man Knowles used to beat her up regularly.

It doesn't take long to walk to her house, even with Tara struggling and slapping at him to break free. Trudging up the front porch stairs, Jax pulls out the key he'd fished out of her bag during the walk here and opens the door. Knowing that - given a choice - she'd storm into her house and slam the door in his face, he waits until they're locked inside before finally dropping her onto the couch.

But Tara Knowles never stays down for long. Leaping to her feet, she shoves him with all her strength, nearly knocking him on his ass; shit he's lucky that she didn't slug him - although the night's still young. "What the HELL is your problem, Jackson?!"

Wow, he's never seen her this mad before; those gorgeous green eyes flaring and world-class rack heaving - it's pretty fucking hot. But Jax ignores the tightening in his jeans, remembering he's just as pissed - if not more. "You're my fucking problem, Tara! Are you out of your goddamn mind thinking that you can run that pit by yourself? Any freakin' psycho can walk in there and attack you."

"Oh yeah, like tonight?" She snaps back, glaring venomously at him. "You seem to have forgotten that I've spent the past couple of years hanging out with bikers…there are more dangerous whack-jobs in your Clubhouse!"

He shakes his head incredulously, was she this fucking naïve? Despite growing up with a violent bastard for a father, she doesn't seem to have the first goddamn clue about all the crazy assholes out there who'd jump at the chance to hurt her. "You're an Old Lady! You know no one with a patch would've laid a finger on you - I can't say the same about those other lowlifes your old man called customers. Anyone could come in and beat you up worse than your old man ever did…or worse! Do you want to get raped? Or murdered? And for what…a few lousy bucks?"

"Listen Jax…"

"This isn't a negotiation, Tara! We've told you that we'd give you whatever money you need. You're not working at that bar - that's final! Now get your head out of your ass and do what you're told!"

Christ, Jax can feel a vein throbbing in his forehead; he can't remember the last time he unloaded on anyone like this. And not just anyone - Tara, the one person he never wanted to know how badly he could lose his shit.

Waiting for her reaction, he eyes her warily; usually anyone on the receiving end of one of his tirades would be cowering in a corner right now - even Clay avoided pushing him too far, not wanting unleash the nasty Teller temper. But ever fearless, Tara just skewers him with those blazing green eyes and blistering fury that could rival his.

She gets into his face then pokes him - hard - in the chest. "You need to get this straight, Teller - I am NOT an Old Lady or one of your flunky Prospects that you can order around! I'm not 'your problem' or Opie's or anyone else's for that matter. Where the fuck do you get off telling me what to do?"

"Because I love you, you stubborn bitch!" He counters hotly, rage pumping through him at the thought of her flirting with those three sleazy goons at the bar and what they could've done to her if he hadn't shown up with Juice. "You seem to think you can do whatever you goddamn please, but you can't! There are a lot of seriously fucked-up people out there, Tara, and you're fucking crazy if you think I'll let you throw yourself at them!"

Oh holy fucking shit…what the fuck did he just say? At her stunned expression, he feels his ears grow hot and face flush red. Jesus Christ! "Look Tara, I…"

But before he can come up with some lame bullshit to explain, she grabs fistfuls of his t-shirt and fuses her mouth to his.

* * *

Since the day Tara Knowles first strolled onto the TM lot and blew his world out of orbit, Jax's fantasized about this - what it'd be like to kiss her, touch her, feel her like he wanted - every time he closed his eyes, every time he fucked some nameless pussy with her face tattooed on his brain. Well despite the vividness of his fantasies, they were pretty much shit compared to the real thing - and they hadn't even got to where he really wanted to go.

Her hands seem to glide everywhere - his hair, his arms, his back - setting his skin on fire as electricity charges through every cell in his body. But Jax's completely enthralled by her mouth; cupping her face in his palms, he can't seem to get enough of the taste of her - shit, he's never felt this soaring thrill from just a kiss before, there wasn't anyone or anything that could remotely compare.

Finally giving into the need for air, he reluctantly drags his mouth from hers - breathing heavily, he drinks in her gorgeous face before devouring her mouth once again. But this time, his hands launch into an unchecked exploration of the most luscious terrain on earth - pulling open the laces of that maddening tank top, then the front clasp of her bra so he can finally, finally fill his hands with the lushly perfect breasts that've tortured him for years.

Her breathing hitches as his thumbs rasp and rub her nipples - driving him to dip his head to nuzzle her neck, her throat and each plump mound before sucking a velvety pink tip into his mouth. He grunts with satisfaction as it hardens against his swirling tongue - Christ, she's even more fucking perfect than he'd ever imagined.

Drunk on the sound of her blissful sighs, he shifts to suckle her other breast while struggling to control the excitement raging through him. Fuck, he's ready to explode from just the taste of those pebbled rosy buds and from the feel of her rubbing up against his rock-hard dick.

Vaguely aware of her pushing his cut off his shoulders, he helps her tug his t-shirt over his head then returns the favor by sliding her tank top and bra to the floor. Before his knees buckle over the vision of a gloriously bare-breasted Tara Knowles, he pushes her onto the couch then runs his shaky hands up her smooth, impossibly long legs to the hot, wet center of her.

"You're soaked, Babe," he drawls, stroking her through her damp panties. "Is that all for me?" He slips a finger under the lacy border and inside the tight, silky heaven he's been dying to enter since laying eyes on her.

She responds by running her fingers through his hair and clasping his probing finger with her flexing pussy muscles. Jax slides his thumb under the lace to rub her slippery clit then smiles smugly when she arches her back and cries out in pleasure. He can't resist the urge to fondle a heaving breast with his free hand, licking and nibbling her swollen nipples until she grabs his head and rasps in his ear.

"I need you, Jax…inside me…Now!"

Oh fuck YES! He's never moved so fast in his life - pulling down her skirt and panties, shucking off his jeans and boxers, wrapping a condom around his brick-hard cock. Claiming her mouth once again, he spreads her wide and plunges inside her pulsing heat.

"Christ, Tara," he moans as she clutches his ass with her strong fingers, inciting him to pump deeper, harder, faster. Jax closes his eyes, gritting his teeth as he alternately relishes and resists the pounding waves of heat and ecstasy that threaten to consume him. Shit, oh goddamn shit…he just knew making love to Tara would be fucking out-of-this-world, but nothing could've prepared him for _this_.

Shifting, he leans back on the couch and lifts her onto his lap - without pulling his dick out of her scorching wet heaven. "God, you're so beautiful," he breathes; his eyes and hands running greedily over her glossy dark hair, her gorgeous face and all that bare silky-soft skin.

"Did you mean what you said?" She caresses his face, her fingers tweaking his goatee. There's a hopefulness to her expression that sends his heart pounding even harder.

Pulling her tight against him, he gazes into those hypnotic green eyes he's loved for so long. "Yeah, I meant it…I love you, Tara."

She shoots him a smile so dazzling bright that it nearly blinds him and sends his pulse skyrocketing higher than ever before. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she proceeds to completely rock his world as her tight, soaking wet pussy clenches tightly around his cock. She rides him slowly, slowly at first - drawing out his pleasure until he's a sweaty, shaking mass of need.

"Come with me, Baby," she pants against his lips before laying him out with another soul-searing kiss that melts his bones and - somehow - entices his dick to swell even harder.

Drowning in sensation, Jax slides his eager hands down her smooth back to cup her beyond-perfect ass, massaging the firm yet baby-soft globes as she grinds against him - relentlessly squeezing his hungry cock - over and over and over.

"Say my name…" he grits out, staring at her through his desire-fogged haze. "…scream it…when I make you come." Gripping her hips, he flexes his ass and thrusts hard and deep into the core of her - again and again and again.

"Jax! Oh god, Jax!" Tara's screams merge with his own cries and curses as powerful, mind-blowing orgasms engulf them - rocking them both with the force of a fucking nuclear blast. Holy fucking shit…his vision goes blank as wave after wave of ecstasy swamp him. He can feel her fingers tangle in his hair as her soaking wet pussy continues to spasm around his still-hard cock, milking every drop of come until he's completely spent.

Clutching her tight against him, Jax buries his face in her neck - still shaking from the most intense, most incredible fuck of his life. Not that he's surprised; Tara's always made him feel much more than anyone he's ever met. He's never loved anyone like her, and now he knows he never will.

Jax feels her lips tease his ear and smiles weakly to himself. Hell yeah, he wants more too - but his dick needs a little time to recover; the love of his life just fucked him dry. "Give me a second, Babe." He musters the strength to press a kiss to her forehead. "I've got big plans for you and me…we've got all night."

She smiles slowly as those green eyes twinkle at him, spiking his pulse and rousing his resting dick once again. Christ, she could probably wake him from the dead if she wanted. "That's good to know, but that's now what I was thinking…yet."

Correctly reading the questioning lift to his brows, she smoothes a strand of hair from his damp forehead. "I was going to tell you that…" Her lips brush his softly. "…I love you, too."


	7. Your Nuclear Boots

**Your Nuclear Boots….**

He wakes with a jolt - nothing new given the nightmares that've plagued him regularly since his old man's death. However, this time it's not visions of bloody violence that jerk his eyes open; turning to the gorgeous girl cuddled next to him, Jax exhales with relief that the greatest night of his life hadn't been yet another Tara-centric wet dream.

His morning wood twitches with impatient interest as he hugs her tighter, relishing the feel of her soft skin and lush breasts rubbing against him. He smirks to himself over the oh-so-fucking-excellent discovery that she comes so much harder, so much louder when he's suckling those plump, pink-tipped puppies in his hungry mouth while thrusting deep inside of her.

Pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, he thinks about rousing her yet again for another round of the best sex ever; although - his smug grin broadens - the last time she'd been the one to fuck him awake, literally…

 _His eyes flutter open as hot rushes of pleasure blaze through him. Reaching for her, he winds up clawing the empty bed sheet as another surge - more intense, more electrifying - has his back arching off the bed and moans ripping from his throat. Dazed and gasping, he manages to lift his head to seek out the little witch who's set his body on fire for the millionth time in just the past few hours._

" _Oh, sorry Baby - did I wake you?" Sprawled between his legs, Tara peers up from suckling his balls to grin at him impishly; her soft hand tightening around his swollen cock as she continues to slowly fist him up and down._

 _But before he can muster enough brain cells to respond, she drags her tongue across his cock's wet head then closes her plump, pink lips around him - blowing to shit his ability to do anything but writhe and moan and thrust mindlessly deep inside her hot, wet mouth._

" _Oh fuck, Tara…" he manages to gasp as she sucks him harder - one hand squeezing his dick, the other massaging his balls. His lust-filled, heavy-lidded gaze locks with her desired-darkened green eyes and it hits him once again that she's really here with him - not another dream, not an image of her face as he bangs some faceless pussy. Tara._

 _Summoning what little strength he's got left, he tugs weakly at her hair, grunting half-heartedly at her to stop - the love of his life deserves to get off, too. But she ignores him, deep-throating his cock until_ _all he can do is shout out her name over and over while he comes and comes and comes._

Jax brushes his lips against hers then pulls away, disappointed when she doesn't stir - not even a little bit. But then - he smirks again - she's got to be completely worn out given the number of times he got her off with his mouth, his fingers, his dick.

Ignoring his hard-on (for now), he drops another kiss on her lips before extricating himself from her and climbs out of bed; he's needs to take a leak and get some coffee. Leaning over her, Jax can't resist touching her again - brushing a strand of hair from her face and stroking her velvety cheek. Maybe he'll make breakfast, it's the least he can do for the most beautiful girl in the world who's just made him happier than he's ever been in his whole fucking life.

He scans the empty floor for his boxers until he remembers that they'd left all their clothes scattered in the living room last night - too intent on getting to her room so they could fuck on a bed to bother with that shit.

After taking care of his business in the bathroom, he pads naked into the living room - grateful that Tara lives alone; he's pretty sure old Frank wouldn't have thought twice about kicking his bare ass out into the street.

He'd just finished pulling up his boxers when the phone rings - who the fuck would be calling her this early in the morning? Not wanting to give the caller a shock by answering, he ignores the phone and slips on his jeans - only to freeze in mid-zip when the answering machine kicks on and Opie's voice fills the room.

"Tara, it's Opie…Look, I'm sorry about the other night - you got every right to be mad, but we need to talk. Maybe I can come over there later today, and we can hash all this out. I'll call you back when I'm back in town - should be in another couple of hours…Okay, bye."

It's like an atom bomb explodes in his face, knocking him on his goddamn ass. Holy fuck! How in goddamn fucking hell could he have forgotten Opie? Jesus Christ! Jax sinks to the couch and buries his face in his shaking hands. But he did forget - so consumed by his temper then by his love and his lust, he betrayed his best friend in the goddamn world. His Brother.

Despite the loud roaring in his ears and the violent pounding in his head, Jax manages to control himself before he does something fucking stupid like trash the living room in a self-directed rage. But he definitely needs to get the fuck out of here. Now. Without sparing a single glance towards the room where Tara's still sleeping, Jax grabs his t-shirt and cut and bolts out the door.

* * *

"You look like shit, Bro."

Opie's tone sounds only half-teasing and there's real concern on his face, making Jax feel like the biggest prick in the universe - which he is, without a fucking doubt. It's been a couple of days since he ran out of Tara's house like a man with his ass on fire; forty-eight of the longest hours of his life as he's struggled to come to terms with what he's done. Forty-eight hours of drowning himself in booze, weed and every available pussy he could find just to distract himself from both the entrancing memories and the ugly fucking truths.

He'd betrayed his Brother…  
And, given another chance to be with Tara, he'd do it again and again…

Even after forty-eight hours of avoiding both his best friend and his best friend's Old Lady, Jax still doesn't know what the fuck to do. It wasn't enough that he stabbed Opie in the back, he also violated one of the sacred Club rules that could get him ex-communicated from SAMCRO - don't fuck another Member's Old Lady. If anyone found out about him and Tara, he'd lose Opie's friendship _and_ his patch, his future at the head of the Reaper table - everything that his mother's been warning him about for years.

And then there's Tara. His near-obsessive love for her had been pretty much unbearable before, but now - remembering the pure ecstasy of being with her, of knowing that she loves him too - it's fucking eating him alive.

"I'm fine," Jax snaps, lighting up another joint; the last one hadn't done shit to ease the ache in his chest after listening to Juice once again tell Tara that he was out of town. She's called him three times since he took off without a word after their night together; each time he'd ordered Juice to tell her that he was on a run and couldn't be reached - complete fucking lies, but better than whatever bullshit that would spew out of his mouth if he actually had the balls to talk to her.

"What's with you lately?" Undeterred by Jax's shitty attitude, Opie plops into the chair next to him. "You've been an asshole to everyone not sucking your dick. You still having problems with Clay?"

Jax regards him blankly. Clay? Shit, right now Clay's the least of his worries…Luckily the long-missing logical part of his brain switches back on, telling him to keep his mouth shut as if to confirm his friend's assumption. Jax would rather have Opie believe that he's still got a beef with the man who so quickly replaced JT at the head of the table and in his mom's bed; it sure as hell beats the ugly-ass truth.

"Look, I know how much your dad meant to you - how much you want to be loyal to him. I get it - there's nothing I wouldn't do for my old man." An odd look twists Opie's face - strangely sad and guilty - but it disappears quickly as he continues to try and soothe Jax's currently non-existent issues with his step-dad. Which makes Jax feel like an even bigger pile of shit. "Clay's what the Club needs right now…But soon, it'll be your turn. Soon you'll have the gavel, and then we can do everything we've been talking about since we were kids."

Jax opens his mouth, only to clamp it shut - what the fuck does he say to that? Fortunately, he's spared that particular problem when Chibs rushes into the room, barking at them to get off their asses - the Cacuzza's need an emergency delivery of the new Irish stock. So much for trying to avoid Opie until he figures out what the fuck to do, they're both now stuck escorting a truck full of AK's to some mafia hideaway out in the middle of fucking nowhere. Christ.

* * *

He fights like hell to empty his mind and focus on the truck driving ahead of him, but torturous images continue to swamp him relentlessly.

 _Tara's dazzling smile each time he tells her "I love you"  
_ _Those gorgeous green eyes smoldering with heat as he pumps deeper and harder inside of her  
_ _Her beautiful face lighting up his world when she tells him "I love you, too"  
_ _Opie…_

"Look out!" They'd just stopped at a seemingly empty intersection when gun shots pierce the air and the side of the van. Juice guns the van's engine and takes off at full speed to protect the precious cargo - fuck knows what the Cacuzza _and_ the Irish would do to them if they lost those guns.

"Go! Follow the van!" Clay roars at him and Otto as the others swerve around to take out the shooters, hidden in plain sight atop a short stone mesa overlooking the road. How the fuck had they not seen that coming?

But Jax only makes it a few feet when his bike suddenly lurches out of control, tossing him into a deep ditch. Shit, a fucking blow-out! A goddamn bullet must've punctured one of his tires. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

He slams hard into the ground but recovers quickly, impelled by the volleying blasts of gunfire - his Brothers need him. Trying to scramble to his feet, he freezes at the sight of a dark-haired thug in a suit standing above him - pointing a gun directly at his head. Leering, the fucker mutters some incoherent shit, cocks the gun then…

A deafening boom shakes the ground - distracting Jax's would-be-murderer, who jerks his head around wildly to find out what the hell happened. It's just enough time for Jax to yank the gun out of his holster and blow the motherfucker full of holes until he drops to the ground.

Clambering out of the ditch, Jax looks around frantically - his heart thumping in his throat - until he spots his Brothers in the distance, alive and unhurt, kicking at the smoking, crumpled bodies of their attackers - who must've been hurled off the short bluff in the explosion. Exhaling loudly in relief, he looks down at the still form of the prick who tried to kill him and plugs two bullets into the bastard's head - just to ensure the asshole's permanent trip back to hell.

"You okay?" Opie races towards him, anxious brown eyes scanning for any injury. "That was some circus flip you did back there."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jax assures him. Together they start walking towards the other guys, who're still inspecting the corpses for signs of who might've been behind this ambush. Probably a "Family" enemy of the Cacuzzas, judging from the dead shitbag on the ground behind them. "What the fuck happened over there? Sounds like a bomb went off."

Opie grins with unabashed glee. "Grenade," he replies casually, dangling the pin from his fingers - as if it's perfectly normal to be carting around explosive devices.

Jax barks with laughter. "You just had a spare grenade with you?" But then he's not really surprised; Opie's always loved the pyrotechnics - when they were kids, Ope never went anywhere without a pack of firecrackers "just in case."

"Always got to be prepared," Opie quips, dropping the pin in his pocket before slapping Jax on the back. "You never know when you may need to blow shit up."

"I guess that's true…" Nodding, Jax's smile fades as he somberly regards his best friend in the world. "Thanks, Ope. You saved my ass today."

Opie just shrugs, the grin never leaving his face. "You'd do the same for me…We're Brothers, man. Always have been, always will be."

Fuck, maybe he should've let that mafia asshole shoot him dead. Can't possibly be worse than the sharp, stabbing guilt that shreds him once again. Also, he wouldn't have to make the impossibly painful choice between the two people he loves most in the world - Tara and Opie - not to mention the path to the gavel that's been his future since birth.

"Our little gymnast is fine," Opie declares, draping an arm around Jax's shoulder as Clay, Bobby, Chibs and Tig swarm them - closely inspecting Jax for blood or broken bones that they know he'd try to hide in a nanosecond, just to stay with them on the ride. "Probably has a little boo-boo on his ass from the fall, but nothing another threesome with his croweaters can't make better."

As the others laugh and Opie pounds his back, Jax knows there's really no choice. This is where he belongs - with his Brothers. With SAMCRO.

* * *

It's late when they get back to the Clubhouse, and given the bloody drama of the day they're all ready to party. Except for Opie, who disappears once again - no doubt to Rio Vista to be with his Old Lady. They'd all given him shit for being so pathetically pussy-whipped - except for Jax, who'd gritted his teeth and clenched his fists while pretending to laugh. Life's back to normal again, except worse - so much fucking worse.

Lighting up another joint, Jax leans into the chair; closing his eyes as the blonde's rosy red mouth closes around his cock.

 _His lips brush the smooth column of her throat before nuzzling her neck, one hand tangling in her silky dark hair while the other glides across her bare, baby-soft skin. Perfect, she's so fucking perfect - so much more than he'd ever dreamed. It's like she'd been made for him - just for him._

" _Jax…" Tara moans, her long legs wrapping around his waist, urging him to thrust deeper and deeper inside the hottest, wettest slice of heaven on earth._

"Jax?" His eyes snap open to lock with a pair of confused and hurt green eyes. But the connection breaks instantly as she turns on her heel and storms out of the room.

"Shit!" Carefully, he extracts himself from the nameless croweater's mouth then jumps up to chase after her, zipping up his jeans over his suddenly limp dick. Glancing around the crowded Clubhouse, he sighs with relief that no one seems to notice him chasing after an undoubtedly furious Tara.

He catches up with her just as she's about to jump in her car. "Tara!" Grabbing her arm, he spins her around to face him - which he regrets instantly at the sight of her tear-streaked face.

"Let go of me, asshole," she hisses, struggling against his grip.

"What are you doing here? Where's Opie?" Shit, Ope left over an hour ago…could something have happened to him before he got to Tara's place? Jax's blood runs cold at the thought of blowback from today's takedown of the Masucci family's soldiers trying to steal the Cacuzza's gun shipment?

Those green eyes skewer him angrily. "I don't know where Opie is…I'm not his fucking keeper. I came here because I was worried about _you_ ," she spits out bitterly. "What a joke."

Staring into the beautiful - albeit furious - face of the girl he loves so much, Jax struggles with the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms, beg forgiveness and never let go. He even starts to tug her towards him, until reason finally kicks in - along with the image of Opie's smiling, trusting face.

" _We're Brothers, man. Always have been, always will be…"_

Jax steels himself for what needs to happen next - a clean and permanent break so nothing more can ever happen between them, not with Opie's heart at stake. Tara needs to hate him, really hate him - then she'd cling to Opie and never tell anyone about her ill-fated, one-night stand with Jax.

Dropping her arm, he pastes a don't-give-a-shit expression on his face. "Worried about me? I'm fine, darlin' - as you saw for yourself. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get to back to someone who actually knows how to make a man feel good."

He forces a smirk then waits for her to slug him with her powerful right hook, call him a fucking prick then storm away; that's what his bad-ass Tara would do.

But instead, to his horrified dismay, she flinches - gaping at him in pained surprise, as if he'd slapped her. "What happened, Jax? I don't understand. You left without saying anything - and didn't return any of my calls. I thought…I thought you loved me…What did I do wrong?"

It's almost, almost his undoing - the small, tremulous voice of the little girl who didn't understand why her father hated her, why he beat her. Christ, Jax can feel his resolve melting into shit over the stricken look on her face. In desperation, he presses hard on the swelling bruise on his hip - the aching souvenir from today's near death experience at the hands of some mafia goon. Grimacing, he tells himself that he's got to think of Opie…Why the fuck isn't _she_ thinking about Opie?

"Darlin' you should know by now that I'll say and do anything to get pussy - even yours. It was fun while it lasted, but it's over - I'm done." Jax's stomach clenches painfully as a tear slips down her cheek. "Now you need to run back to your boyfriend and forget all that happened...You wouldn't want to prove your daddy right - that you are a faithless whore."

Her shoulders slump as humiliation and hurt fill her green eyes - but just for a second. Before Jax can take back his hateful words, Tara straightens and steps back from him. Christ, he actually shivers from the arctic chill emanating from her icy gaze.

"Look Tara, I didn't mean…" He clamps his mouth shut, nearly choking on the bitter regret like poison - the line's been crossed with her, there's no fucking going back now.

Without another word or even a backward glance at him, she gets into her car and drives away.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry for the short chapter; it was supposed to be longer ("Your Nuclear Boots & Your Drip Dry Glove" was the line from the Cars' song), but I realized that it will take me a while to finish it given my work schedule. Since I said I would try to update faster than I had been, I cut the chapter in half and will post the rest as another chapter once it's ready.**

 **Not sorry about the angst :-) Anyone who's read any of my stories knows that I love the drama. Nothing has ever been easy for J/T, certainly not this. More to come, hopefully soon.**


	8. And Your Drip Dry Glove

… **And Your Drip Dry Glove**

" _I've always wanted to go to Seattle; it looks so beautiful in the pictures. Have you been up in the Space Needle?" Tara stares at him eagerly, as if expecting him to tell her something mind-blowing._

 _You'd think that a seventeen-year-old raised in the school of hard knocks would be harder, more jaded (like his mom) - but not Tara. It sometimes surprises him how excited she can get over the little things - reading a new book, watching an old movie or talking about places she's never been (which is pretty much anywhere outside of Northern California and Western Nevada). He loves that about her...but then again, he loves everything about her._

 _Jax shakes his head and smiles. "Our charter's in Tacoma. Seattle's about an hour away - I've been there, but I try to stay away from the tourist traps."_

" _Well maybe you should go next time - I hear you can see the entire city and a bunch of mountains and islands from the top. It sounds amazing."_

" _You mean a better view than this?" he jokes, pointing down at the Clubhouse and TM garage bays; when he found out she was up here studying until Opie finished work, he couldn't resist the pull to join her._

 _She arches a brow then regards him with twinkling green eyes. "I like the view from up here. You can see the mountains and...Why are you laughing at me? You're up here all the time!" Feigning indignation, she tosses a cookie at him which he catches in mid-air and gobbles in two bites._

 _Yeah, he comes up to the rooftop every time he gets the chance, mainly to be alone while he writes in his notebook and because he likes looking down at the bustling activity happening at TM and the Clubhouse - kind of like surveying his domain as future King of SAMCRO. He'd never been really interested in what lay in the distance - probably because he doesn't envision life away from home, while she can't wait to escape hers._

 _Shoving away the mind-fucking thought of her leaving them, Jax tweaks her ponytail. "Well next time maybe you can drop the school shit and come with us. I'm sure Ope would be good with that."_

 _A radiant smile that could light up the world spreads across her face and shoots his pulse soaring into orbit. "Yes!" She tosses her book aside and lunges forward to throw her arms around him. "When? Let's go soon - I can't wait!"_

 _Intoxicated by the scent and feel of her, Jax buries his face in her silky hair and hugs her tight. "Me either."_

Leaning against the rail, Jax gazes blankly at the panoramic view of the Puget Sound. He's still not sure what the fuck he's doing here, hanging with the tourists at the top of the Space Needle - but at the sight of the towering landmark, he'd felt something tugging at him to check it out.

They never did take the trip up here with her; shit kept getting in the way. He'd thought about suggesting it to Opie for Tara's eighteenth birthday, but then they got caught up with Club business; shortly after, her old man got killed and nothing was the same after that.

"Can we get the hell out of here now?" Kozik grouses, glaring menacingly at some school kids who'd bumped him in their rush to get to an available telescope. "I swear I'm going to kill the next idiot who asks me where the goddamn bathroom is. Do I look like I fucking work here?"

Jax rolls his eyes; no one in their right mind would mistake Kozik - or any of them - for an employee of a respectable place like this. Leaving their guns and other assorted weapons outside with the Prospect, they'd kept their cuts on when they walked into the iconic tourist attraction - drawing some surprised and uneasy glances from nearly everyone in sight.

"Tell them to ask Happy," Jax snaps, gesturing towards their psycho-killer Brother, who's completely engrossed by some tour guide recounting the history of the Space Needle and the 1962 World's Fair to a bunch of senior citizens.

Turning away from Kozik, Jax's gaze drifts to the snow-capped Mount Ranier in the distance, his hands clenching the railing as her voice fills his head once again. " _I love looking at the mountains - it makes me think about so many possibilities: where I can go, what I can do…I just wish you'd see it too, Jax. You're so smart…you could do anything."_

Well after that brutal confrontation with her, the only goddamn thing he wanted to do was get the hell out of Dodge. Call him a fucking pussy, but he didn't want to be anywhere near Opie and Tara together; not after the ultimate high from finally realizing all of his fantasies about her - only to fucking crash and burn so painfully that he'll never recover, not in a million goddamn years.

Luckily he'd managed to convince Clay to let him spend the past month in Tacoma helping out SAMTAC, who'd been short a couple of patches after a deadly run-in with a Mayan charter in Yakima. But unfortunately, neither the near eight-hundred-mile separation nor his consuming 24/7 routine of outlawing, partying and mindless fucking has done shit to erase the memories of her relentlessly pummeling his head or ease the stabbing ache and yawning emptiness ripping him apart.

For as long as he lives, Jax'll never forget the bewildered hurt in her green eyes or the icy, impassive expression on her beautiful face as she walked out of his life. It was the right thing to do though; he might be dying inside now, but there's no scenario where he and Tara could've worked. It would've crushed Opie, destroyed their friendship as well as Jax's future with SAMCRO - and Tara…well history hasn't been kind to faithless Old Ladies.

Once stripped of his patch, Jax would've been powerless to stop any vote to punish her, and there's no guarantee that Opie or Piney would be forgiving enough to keep it from happening either. He also knows that he'd kill anyone and everyone who'd harm her in any way - including his Brothers and his best friend.

So it's definitely for the best that she hates him now and goes back to being happy with Opie. Best for everyone. And one day, hopefully it won't hurt so much.

It's late when they get back to the Clubhouse and Lee, the SAMTAC President, pulls Jax aside the instant they walk through the door. "Clay needs you back," he voices the words that Jax's been dreading since showing up in Tacoma a month ago. "Hap and Kozik will ride back with you in the morning."

Jax nods, forcing a smile. Fuck, he's not ready to go back; not by a long shot. He's not ready to face Tara yet, not with Opie draped around her - or worse, wearing his ring. Jax swallows hard as bile bubbles in his throat. But surely if Opie and Tara got engaged, he'd know about it; surely his mom would've moved heaven and earth to let him know.

Lee pulls him into a bear hug. "It's been a huge help having you here, Jax. You ever need anything from us, just pick up the phone, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll do that," Jax mutters hoarsely, dreading the future ahead. Once again he thinks about calling Clay and asking for a permanent transfer to Tacoma; he'd still be part of the Sons but without having to watch Opie and Tara together. But he'd also be abandoning any chance to follow in JT's footsteps - the road to the Presidency of the Sons of Anarchy runs through SAMCRO.

No, he has to go home. It's time.

* * *

" _I love you, too."_

 _His racing heart kicks into overdrive as he gazes at the most beautiful girl in the world - loving the smoldering glint in those green eyes, the rosy flush to her velvety-soft skin. He can feel a broad grin break across his face. She loves him. Hell-fucking-yeah!_

 _Pecking her softly on the lips, he squeezes her oh-so-perfect ass. "Hang on, Babe," he murmurs against her cheek before rising to his feet, lifting them both off the couch. A grunt of pleasure rumbles from deep in his chest as she wraps her arm and legs around him; he can feel his dick - still lodged inside of her - swell harder, despite having been fucked dry just moments before._

" _Christ, Tara…" His knees nearly buckle as she giggles in his ear while her scorching hot pussy grips him like a tight fist. He practically sprints to her bedroom, only to stop short of her door when she cups his cheeks in her soft hands and devours his mouth._

 _Fuck the bed. Pushing her up against the wall, he growls with satisfaction as those long legs tighten around his waist - pulling him even deeper inside the hottest, wettest slice of heaven ever. Feeling her fingers tug at his hair, he lifts his head to gaze questioningly at her through desire-glazed eyes._

 _Saying nothing, she bites her kiss-swollen lower lip then guides his mouth to her bare breasts. Jax nuzzles the plump mounds and smirks to himself; his girl loves getting her nipples sucked, and he's more than eager to oblige. Slowly swirling his tongue around and around each puckered tip, he savors the sound of her gasping his name - how much she loves him - before drawing as much of her into his greedy mouth._

" _Oh, Jax…" Her breathy moans intensify to screams as he suckles her while thrusting harder, pumping faster and deeper, grinding against her clit over and over and over._

 _She comes violently, digging her short fingernails into his shoulder while drenching his cock with wave after wave of her scorching wet heat. Seconds later, shouts and curses rip from his throat as he explodes - slamming into her once, twice before burying face against her sweat-soaked, quivering breasts._

 _Jax's not sure how they manage to stay upright - limbs entwined and panting hard. All he knows is that he wants to spend eternity fused to her, just like this. Gazing into those green eyes that'll own him for the rest of his life, he brushes his lips against hers. "I love you, Tara…More than anything."_

Fuck. He grits his teeth as they approach the freeway exit that would lead to Rio Vista…to Tara. More than anything, he wants to break away from his Brothers and race down that road to her. Surely he'd be able to explain away all the fucking awful shit he did and said to her? Surely his beautiful, big-hearted Tara would understand and take him back, and then they could be happy together. Forever.

But then Tara isn't his; she belongs with his best friend, despite whatever love she might've felt for Jax. There's part of him that wonders if it was even real; she's been alone most of her life - thanks to the worthless piece of shit who "raised" her - and then recently orphaned, maybe she'd turned to someone who'd do anything to be with her while her boyfriend spent so much time away.

Not that it matters…he's shit to her now, thanks to those dick moves he pulled on her. Also, while Jax's been hiding out in Tacoma, Opie's spent every free moment with Tara - or at least that seemed to be the case every time Jax checked in with one of his Brothers on the phone. Fuck, the last time he talked to Opie, his friend was heading out to for a weekend getaway in Santa Cruz; the palpable excitement in his voice had made Jax want to hit him. Hard.

Speeding past the exit to Rio Vista, Jax stares straight ahead. There's no future for him and Tara.

Not now, not ever.

* * *

" _I can't believe Tig has kids," Tara shakes her head, watching in amazement as SAMCRO's crazy-ass Sergeant-at-Arms tries to corral his rambunctious ten-year-old twin daughters._

" _Even harder to believe that some crazy chick actually married him," Jax chuckles. Although "crazy" was a serious understatement when referring to Tig's nut-job ex; the stories about her exploits were insane - even for Tig, the walking freak show who's had sex with dead people. And now said nut-job just abruptly dropped off their troublesome bundles of joy with daddy, claiming the need to spend a week at a detox facility in Chico._

" _Well he looks like he's having fun with them." There's a slight wistfulness to her tone. "When Opie told me about being part of a motorcycle club, I didn't realize how much of a family you guys are…It's really nice."_

 _A fond smile teases his lips as he watches her, those gorgeous green eyes thoroughly engrossed by the sight of Tig chasing down the pair of shrieking hellions then finally hauling one then the other under each arm and stalking out of the Clubhouse. "Don't tell me you'd want one of those little brats."_

 _Tearing her eyes away from the not-so-heartwarming family scene, Tara wrinkles her nose at him. "Jax, I'm only sixteen - way too young to be thinking about that! Besides Opie'd have a heart attack."_

 _His smile fades, twisting into a scowl; he fucking hates that she connects having kids with Opie. The two of them have only been together a year and already she's thinking happily-fucking-ever-after. Christ. "Yeah, I bet," he mutters. His blood already boils at the thought of Tara and Opie having sex; he'd probably fucking spontaneously combust from rage the day she announces she's knocked up with Opie's kid._

 _She must not have noticed his sudden shitty mood swing, her gaze returning to the Clubhouse door where Tig and his twin terrors just exited. "I do want to have kids someday though…It'd be great to have a big family."_

 _Technically he's got the same number of blood family members as she does (not counting his crazy grandparents in Oregon, whom he hasn't seen since Tommy's funeral) but then the Sons are just as much his family as his mom; he's known most of those guys since he was a little kid, and they'd all done their part to raise and mold him. And Opie…well Opie's his brother in every way but biology. So Jax can understand Tara's wish for a big family; he's got no clue what he'd ever do without his._

 _But that doesn't mean he welcomes the idea of her having that big family with Opie or any other fucking guy for that matter. Forcing a lightness he doesn't feel in his tone, Jax directs her attention back to him by handing her a beer. "No aunts, uncles, cousins?"_

 _He watches with his usual rapt appreciation as she lifts the bottle to her plump, pink lips then tilts her head back to swallow down a few gulps - allowing Jax to admire her pale, slender throat and wonder once again what it'd be like to brush his mouth across all that silky soft skin…or even better, how it'd feel to have that long throat working his dick. Goddamn, he's getting a hard-on just from watching her drink beer. Shit._

" _Nope." She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, clearly oblivious to the glazed, dumbfuck look on his face. "It's just me and dad now. And Opie." The affectionate glow in her eyes effectively tosses ice water on his blowjob fantasy._

" _I'm sure Ope'll be happy to know you think he's your brother," he grouses, trying for humor but sure he sounds like a sulky little shit._

 _But again she doesn't seem to notice, her gorgeous face lighting up as the Clubhouse door opens once again and a familiar giant comes into view. Clenching his fists, Jax forces a weak smile as Tara leaps off her barstool to jump into her boyfriend's arms._

 _You'd think he'd be fucking used to watching those two together but… Turning away from the couple inhaling each other, Jax slams another shot of whiskey and then another. He can feel the burn in his gut, although he's not sure if it's from the Jack or the sound of Opie's low, suggestive teasing and Tara's giggles. No, fuck no, he'll never be used to it - not when every goddamn inch of him screams that she belongs with him._

Stopping his bike in the clearing in front of the cabin, Jax frowns at the sight of Opie's Harley parked next to the building. Fuck. He'd returned to Charming a few days ago, and although it's been a happy reunion with Opie and all his Brothers, he's managed to avoid an Opie-Tara confrontation. But now that's about to change.

After some initial tensions with the Mayans when Jax got back, it's been a slow couple of days for SAMCRO; they'd managed to calm things down with Alvarez, and the Clubs declared a shaky truce. Opie took off to be with Tara yesterday while the rest of them partied the hours away in the Clubhouse. Until this morning when Gemma declared that they all needed to get off their worthless asses and help with the remodeling ideas she had for the cabin.

So it was set that Jax, Bobby, Chibs and Juice would ride ahead to make sure all was clear - never could be too careful, even during peacetime; SAMCRO's got way too many enemies for them to feel too safe. Then Gemma, Clay and the others would follow shortly behind.

"Gem must've called Opie at Tara's and told him to get his ass over here," Bobby surmises, smirking as they walk past Opie's bike. "No one's safe."

"Aye that…" Chibs bobs his head towards Juice. "Me and the Prospect will do a walk around the place. Make sure no bears or bad guys around."

Bobby nods. "Okay, we'll take the house. Yell if you need anything. Or shoot."

Jax would've given anything to check the grounds instead of walking into the cabin, knowing what he's going to see. But there's no way to protest without his Brothers knowing how close he is to losing his shit - and why.

"Maybe we should knock." He grabs Bobby's arm just as his Brother's about to open the door. Christ, he really doesn't want to catch Opie and Tara by surprise; there's nothing on this goddamn planet he wants to see less than the two of them in mid-fuck. His goddamn brain might just explode all over the fucking place.

"What's the fun in that?" Bobby leers then quietly pushes the door open. "Shhh…Always wondered who got to be on top between those two." Stealthily slinking through the doorway, he doesn't see Jax stiffen or the murderous fury twisting his face.

Reluctantly he stomps into the cabin - only to bump smack into Bobby, who's frozen in place gawking at the half-naked couple writhing on the couch. Through the red mist coating his vision, Jax glares wrathfully as a bare-chested Opie, oblivious to his new audience, rolls on top of Tara until all that's visible are her pale, slender arms wrapped around his back and a few strands of her long brown hair.

Clenching his fists tighter, he steps around Bobby; his narrowed gazed fixed on the reddish tints in her stick-straight locks. After all the years spent admiring every inch of Tara Knowles, Jax knows all-too-well that her hair's a darker, richer brown - that it's thicker, wavier unless she spends the time to blow it straight. A fresh burst of rage surges through him as realization hits, ripping a snarl from his throat that startles the couple into finally noticing that they're not alone.

"You goddamn son-of-bitch!" Jax lunges at his best friend in the world - the cheating, lying piece of shit - shoving Opie off some bitch who wasn't Tara then slamming his fist into the bastard's jaw.

Shrugging off Bobby's attempt to contain him, Jax clobbers a dazed and reeling Opie again and again. "How can you do this to Tara?!" he roars, seemingly oblivious to both Bobby and the girl screeching at him to stop. Everything fades away except the wrenching memory of that last day - Tara's beautiful face pale with hurt and humiliation, her brilliant green eyes wet with tears as he sneered those unforgivable words.

" _Darlin' you should know by now that I'll say and do anything to get pussy - even yours. It was fun while it lasted, but it's over - I'm done…"  
_ " _Now you need to run back to your boyfriend and forget all that happened...You wouldn't want to prove your daddy right - that you are a faithless whore."_

Jax'd ruthlessly pushed away the only girl he's ever loved for what…loyalty to a "Brother" who's, it turns out, has none. Tara deserves better, so much better from the both of them. Deeply mired in his rage and self-hate, he barely feels it when the girl jumps on his back and starts pummeling him with small fists - like getting attacked by a fucking canary.

Swatting her aside like a pesky mosquito, he advances on Opie once again. "What the fuck's wrong with you, asshole? You have _everything_! How can you hurt Tara with some dirty whore…" His furious rant stops short as Opie, clearly enraged now, charges at him with the force of an angry bull. They crash to the floor in a furious heap of flying fists and seething profanity.

In the corner of his eye, he watches Bobby help the girl to her feet then shouts at her to run and get the others. Not that he gives a shit; Jax's split and bloodied lips curve with brute satisfaction at the resounding crunch as his fist smashes Opie's nose and the other guy's grunts of pain. Even though they've been best friends pretty much since birth, he and Opie have had their share of disagreements - some even escalating to shouting matches - but never has there been this savage ferocity, this singular focus on spilling blood and crushing bones. Jax'd hurt Tara, made her cry - just to spare this cheating motherfucker any heartbreak. What a goddamn fucking joke. Well now his "best friend" needs to feel Tara's pain. And Jax's.

"Holy shit!" Despite the ringing in his ears from a vicious clout to the jaw, Jax can hear his Brothers' shocked disbelief at the sight of two close friends trying to beat each other to death. "Goddamn it you two…Stop!" Both he and Opie struggle and swear violently as they're wrenched apart; Jax manages to duck Juice's restraining arm to lunge at his red-faced, bruised ex-best friend - only to get forced into a headlock by Chibs.

"Let me go, asshole!" Jax thrashes wildly against the Scotsman's iron hold as he eyes Bobby and Kyle struggling to keep a raging, frenzied Opie contained. "Goddamn you…let go!"

The near deafening gunshot blast freezes and silences them all. "Someone want to tell me what the hell's going on here?" Clay bellows, lowering the gun that he'd fired into the ceiling; his angry glare sweeping them all until finally resting on Jax, still imprisoned in Chib's stranglehold. "Well? Have you all gone fucking mute?"

"Just a little misunderstanding, Prez…" Bobby holds his hands up in surrender. "All good now." He glances warningly at both Jax and Opie.

"Oh yeah?" Clay sneers? "Then what the fuck's she doing here?" Clay points towards the small, non-SAMCRO Member dressed only in Opie's SOA t-shirt. "I really don't need the goddamn bible-thumping brigade raining shit all over us." His glare intensifies on Jax. "Are you out of your fucking mind sticking your over-active dick in the preacher's kid?"

Jax finally takes a long look at the "dirty whore" who'd lured Opie to cheat on Tara; his sore jaw dropping open at the sight of the little girl he's known for most of his life - holy fucking shit, Opie's screwing _Donna Lerner._ And fucking Tara over in the process…His rage spikes anew at the thought of what she'll have to go through when she hears about this. If she hears about this…He slams his mouth shut, remaining stubbornly silent as Clay glowers at him. For the first time, he notices his mother standing behind her husband; Gemma shoots him that all-too-familiar evil eye, warning him not to do or say something intensely stupid.

"She's with me," Opie admits quietly, enfolding a shaken and crying Donna in his arms. He drops a lingering kiss on her forehead before turning a rueful gaze at a stone-faced Piney. "Sorry, Pop. We didn't want you to find out this way. I was going to tell you about me and Donna, but…Just wanted to make sure your heart could take it."

Clay shakes his head, obviously not relishing the idea of dealing with His Holiness, Rev. Lerner's outrage over his only daughter hooking up with a Son. But then, like the other guys, he shrugs and lets it go; it's an unwritten rule that they stay out of each other's business when it comes to Old Ladies.

Fuck the rule. "And what about Tara?" Jax demands furiously, finally breaking away from Chibs - only to be restrained by Kyle and Juice as he tries to charge Opie once again. "You fucking selfish prick…what are you going to tell her?" With his one good, non-swollen eye he skewers the miserable cheater with a hate-filled glare usually reserved for their worst enemies, taking no satisfaction from the guilty regret that flashes across Opie's face.

"Stop it, Jackson," his mother hisses in his ear. Apparently Gemma's had enough of watching Jax and Opie's friendship destruct. She wraps her long claws around his arm then drags him into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind them.

"You need to pull your head out of your ass. Now." She snaps at him as he starts pacing furiously around the room.

What the fuck? Jax whirls around to scowl at her. "How the hell's this my fault? I wasn't the one fucking around on my girlfriend." His lip curls with disgust. "It all makes sense now - all those times he'd take off and no one knew where he went…He's been screwing around behind Tara's back!"

Crossing her arms, Gemma spits out a bitter laugh. "What? Are you now supposed to be some kind of poster boy for one chick per dick? Give me a fucking break, Jackson. You've never stuck to one pussy a day in your life. I know this is all about Tara; you're still hung up on that little bitch."

She shakes her head, throwing up a hand to stop him as he starts to protest. "I warned you about this, Jax. You got in too deep with that girl, and now it could cost you your best friend. It's none of your goddamn business what goes on with Opie and his Old Lady - both of them."

"Fuck that! He can't…"

The door opens and Opie steps inside; holding a bag of frozen peas to his nose, he eyes Jax warily. "Gemma, if you don't mind, I need to talk to Jax - alone."

The Queen of SAMCRO hesitates for a moment, as if wondering whether she can trust them not to kill each other. Finally, she nods - shooting them both a warning look that promises dire consequences if they piss her off - then stalks out of the room.

Opie tosses a bag of frozen corn at Jax before plopping down to sit on the bed. "What the hell that was back there? You got something you want to tell me?"

Pressing the bag of corn against his black eye, Jax glares at him then winces at the sting. Oh yeah, he's got a lot of fucking things to say - most of it the same as before, with his now-bruised knuckles.

Sighing, Opie runs a hand through his tangled hair before narrowing his eyes at Jax. "Tara and I broke up."

He may as well have karate-kicked Jax in the chest - or the head, given the air sucked out of his lungs and the roaring in his ears. It's what he's been wanting to hear for years…but now at the worst possible time. Stunned, Jax drops the bag of corn and gapes open-mouthed at Opie. "When?" he manages to croak.

Shifting uneasily, Opie stares down at his hands as if uncomfortable with what he's got to say next. "A few months ago," he practically mumbles. "It was right after her dad died. She caught me with Donna and…hey, what the fuck!" He glares at Jax for hurling the frozen bag of corn at his head.

"Her dad dies and you're off chasing ass?" Jax spits out in renewed outrage; he clenches his fists again, itching once again to plant them in Opie's fucking face.

Opie's face darkens with anger. "You better be real careful about how you talk about Donna. Say whatever you want about me - I deserve it, but she's off-limits. Friend or not, the next time you say any kind of shit about her, I'll fucking kill you."

"How noble of you," Jax sneers, despite the squeezing pressure in his chest - Opie and Tara had broken up _before_ the night Jax spent with her. Christ! Why hadn't anyone fucking told him? If he'd known, he wouldn't have pushed her away, wouldn't have said those fucking awful things…They'd be together now. Bracing himself against the dresser, he struggles to control the fury and violence surging inside him. It's taking every goddamn ounce of his control not to destroy every fucking thing in the room, starting with his so-called best friend.

"Why in fuck's name did you keep all this a secret from me?" He rages at Opie and an absent Tara.

Rubbing his forehead where the frozen bag of corn had beaned him, Opie winces either from his sore head or the memory of his deception. Or both. "Donna and I…We decided not to tell _anyone_. Her dad hates SAMCRO; if it ever got back to him that she was with me, he'd ship her off to some relatives on the other side of the country. We couldn't risk it."

"And Tara?" Jax grits out. "How'd you get her to go along with all your lies? You fuck around on her, and she's still playing the part of your Old Lady?"

Opie shakes his head. "Tara was never my Old Lady…and least not technically. She never inked the crow; she didn't want it…or the Club. I guess that was kind of the beginning of the end for us. But it was okay because I already knew I loved Donna."

Now it's Jax's turn to stare at his hands. Having kissed every inch of her perfect body, he knows there's no ink on her. But then he'd been so fired up to have her, that it hadn't really registered. Until now.

"And then there's Piney…You know how he is about Tara; he's got it in his head that she's his already his daughter. It's pretty much mutual - she didn't have a good relationship with her old man, so Piney kind of fills that for her. Anyway, you heard what I said to him - because all the shit with his heart…we wanted to find a good time to tell him."

Opie gets up from the bed then walks over to Jax. He hesitates for a moment, as if waiting for another punch to get thrown at his head, then rests a battered hand on Jax's shoulder. "I'm starting to realize that I should've told you sooner," he admits quietly as if finally understanding the reason behind Jax's pained fury. "Hopefully it's not too late."

* * *

" _So what do you write about?"_

 _Startled, Jax nearly rips a hole in the notebook page with the tip of his pen. Looking up, he nearly swallows his tongue as his mouth drops open and eyes practically bug out of his head._

 _Since the day they met, he's thought Tara Knowles to be the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen - and that's in her usual attire of jeans or cutoffs and a t-shirt or tank top. Dressed in a long, flowy strapless black dress, she blows him away with the force of a cat 5 hurricane._

" _Wow," he breathes, shifting in his seat as his dick takes notice as well, straining against his fly in a desperate bid for release. "You look beautiful...I mean you always do, but…wow." Christ, could he sound like a bigger fucking idiot?_

 _She blushes then shoots him that dazzling smile that demolishes whatever working brain cells that he had left. "Thanks, Jax. I never feel like me in clothes like this."_

 _Shit, his poor heart couldn't stand it if she wore clothes like that all the time. But damn, she looks amazing. Jax can't help but wonder what she's got on under the dress; he'd give just about anything to find out. "Well maybe you should…You look great. What's the occasion?_

" _I got a thing in Sacramento tonight, which means I can't make it to Piney's birthday party tonight. So I thought I'd swing by on my way there and drop off his gift."_

 _Oh yeah, the "thing" - Opie told him that Tara won some big state science award and that the Governor himself was hosting some fancy party to honor her and a few other high school brainiacs from all over the state. Jesus, he knows she's smart, but sometimes he forgets just how big and brilliant her brain really is._

" _So you haven't answered my question." She glides over to sit next to him at the picnic table. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'd love to know what goes through the mind of Jax Teller."_

 _Right now, his mind's reeling from delicious scent of her and his ever-present fuck fantasies starring her. God, he'd love to take her up to the rooftop, strip her naked of everything but those high heels then fuck her as the sun sets. Gritting his teeth, he shifts again; this time feeling the spurt of wetness in his boxers. Christ._

 _At her expectant look, he scans his useless brain for anything that might resemble a coherent answer. She wants to know what he writes about…well, there are some things he can't tell anyone. Especially not her. "Just stuff…nothing that's ever going to win an award." He grins at her._

 _Disappointment flickers in her eyes for moment before those long lashes touch down, and she looks away. "Maybe you should find out…Remember, I've read some of your school reports - you're a beautiful writer, Jax. Who knows what you could do if you just take a chance?"_

Speeding towards Rio Vista, Jax's mind roils as words burn through his brain…What words could he possibly say to her? After his absolute shit behavior "I'm sorry" seems so inadequate, "I love you" sounds so insincere. But he's got to try - he and Tara belong together, even Opie had finally seen it and wished him luck.

" _Who knows what you could do if you just take a chance?"_

He frowns at her empty driveway; the bookstore had been closed for the night, and she hadn't been at the dad's bar. Hoping that maybe she ditched her dad's Cutlass and parked her car in the garage, Jax bounds up her porch steps practically holding his breath. Heart thudding loudly in his chest, he rings the doorbell - after no response, he rings again and again then starts pounding loudly on the door.

"Are you looking for Tara, young man?"

Jax whirls around to see a little old lady with a strong resemblance to Betty White holding the leash to the tiniest dog he's ever seen. Summoning his most charming smile, he flashes it at her as he walks down the porch steps. "Yes, ma'am. I'm a friend of hers."

Betty White's twin wrinkles her nose. "Well you can't be a very good friend, or you'd know she's not there."

Unease creeps through him. "We haven't seen each other in a while. I've been out of town - just got back."

She regards him skeptically so Jax intensifies the wattage as he beams at her. No woman's ever been able to resist that smile, and Tara's eighty-year-old neighbor is no exception. Flushing slightly, she grins back then crushes Jax into a goddamn pile of dust.

"Tara left for college…She moved away last week. I'm sorry, but I don't think she's coming back."


	9. She Used to Be Mine

**She Used to Be Mine**

"I take it from that hang-dog look on your face - no luck?"

Jax glares at Opie before hopping back on his bike; their newly mended friendship still feels a bit wobbly given that he's still fucking pissed that Opie and Tara had kept their break-up secret from him just to keep Piney from blowing a gasket and Donna's dad from shipping her off to a convent. If one of them would've just told him the truth, he wouldn't have fucked everything up so spectacularly.

And it doesn't help that he can't even find her to apologize. No one in this shithole town - not her old lady neighbor, not the half-senile owner of the bookstore where she'd worked, not the half-drunk idiot who now runs her dad's bar - could tell him a goddamn thing other than that she'd gone to "a really good school for smart kids." Great.

What's got him scratching his head - when he wasn't punching walls or people - over her abrupt departure is that Tara hasn't even graduated from high school yet; she's still got at least a month left in her senior year - what college would admit a student without a high school diploma? So after wasting a few days drinking and smoking himself into a bad-tempered stupor, he decided to ride over to Tara's high school to talk to anyone who might've known her plans.

When Opie had offered to ride with him, Jax almost told him to fuck off but then realized that Tara's long-time boyfriend might be able to point out any of her friends - mystery people, it dawned on him, that he knew jack-shit about. After all these years, it's crazy that he knows so little about her world away from him; none of it had mattered, not when he knew who she was deep down - nothing mattered except for when she was with him.

But she's gone now, and he'll do any and every fucking thing to find her and convince her that they belong together - including accepting Opie's help and stalking a bunch of redneck high school kids, who collectively didn't have enough brain cells to screw on a fucking light bulb. After over an hour of working his charm on every chick in sight, he realized there's no way any of those brainless morons could keep up with someone as brilliant as Tara, much less be privy to any of her plans.

"Well while you were flirting with the bumpkins, I called Mary," Opie drawls nonchalantly as Jax straps on his helmet. "Turns out mom ran into Tara not long before she left town."

Freezing in place, Jax stares hard at his friend. "Well…What'd she say? Did Tara tell her where she was going?" he demands hoarsely, mentally kicking himself for not thinking of Mary Winston first. Even though Tara's never been as close to Opie's mom as she was to Piney, apparently there was enough of a relationship there for Tara to talk to her before leaving town - which is more than he can fucking say.

"Mom said Tara got her diploma early - tested out of the rest of her classes. Tara told her it was too hard to stay in that school knowing that the kids who killed her dad got off and are back in class. I guess the school felt bad enough to give her an out."

Although that explains how she got to leave school early, it doesn't answer what Jax really wants to know. "But did Mary say where Tara went?" He can feel his chest tighten with anticipation, but the tiny hope that'd been bubbling to the surface sinks into a pile of shit as Opie shakes his head.

"Sorry, man. Tara didn't tell her. Just said she got accepted to a lot of schools and was trying to decide by visiting a bunch of different campuses…Hell, she could even move out of state."

Gritting his teeth as fear and bitter disappointment rip through him, Jax guns his engine then speeds out of the parking lot, not giving a shit whether Opie's ready to go or not.

"… _I'm thinking about applying to a few schools in New York and New England. If I can get into an Ivy League university on a scholarship, I'd be crazy not to go."_

" _So I took your advice…I applied to a few colleges close to here. If I can get a scholarship, then I won't be far away. Isn't that great?"_

Fuck. Her voice rings through his ears as memories with her shoot through his brain

… _that stolen afternoon lying on the picnic blanket, basking in the sun-drenched vision of her…  
_ … _the night he patched in, sitting on the rooftop, her green eyes gleaming in the moonlight as she presses her soft lips against his for the first time…_

Christ! Jax tries to shove aside the swarm of images that've been torturing him for weeks now. But no matter how recklessly fast he darts between cars and trucks or how dangerously close he skirts the edges of steep embankments, neither flirting with danger nor Opie's outraged shouts does shit to distract him from her face in his head or the enormity of his loss.

 _He really should let her sleep…after all those screaming orgasms, there's no doubt she's got to be completely wiped out. And so should he - given how relentlessly and explosively she'd fucked him dry; shit, he'd come so hard, it's a wonder he hadn't passed out each time. But no, every inch of him's still buzzing from the realization that he's actually with her, inside of her - that she loves him. Him. It's everything he's fucking wanted since the day he laid eyes on her._

 _Jax smirks to himself as he glances quickly around her bedroom; when they'd stumbled in here last night, he'd insisted on keeping her lamp on - there was no way in hell he'd be denied the sight of Tara completely naked, open and eager for him. His smug smile broadens as he admires her smooth, pale limbs entwined with his._

 _His dick swells harder as his eyes linger appreciatively on her plump, luscious breasts. Christ, she's so fucking perfect - more so than any of the hundreds of fantasies he's had of her over the years. Unable to resist, he leans over and licks a soft pink nipple - again and again until it's nearly as stiff as his cock, pressing insistently against her silky thigh. Stifling a moan, he buries his face between those lush mounds. Shit, he might just come from sucking on her nipples while she's still asleep._

 _But that thought and all others vaporize as he feels her fingers sifting through his hair. Pressing his lips against the wet and puckered tip, he stares into her melting green gaze while his whole body jolts with excitement._

" _Hey there." She flashes him a drowsy smile, stroking his cheek as he suckles her breast - never once breaking away from her hypnotic gaze. Moaning softly, she tugs at his head until their lips meet for a long, wet kiss._

 _Jesus, his heart's practically beating out his chest. She's always been able to make his pulse race like nothing and no one else ever, but now - caressing her silky-soft skin, drinking in her intoxicating taste, gazing at her beautiful face - he's never felt such soaring highs. All because - after all the years of wanting - Tara Knowles finally belongs to him._

" _I love you," she sighs, pressing her forehead against his._

" _I love you, too." He pulls her closer, sucking in a breath as their legs tangle; his swollen cock rubbing between her thighs where's she's wet and ready for him once more._

 _Wrapping her arms around his neck, she angles her hips - spreading herself wider in welcome for his eager dick. "Then fuck me again, Baby. Now."_

 _A hungry growl rips from his throat as he devours her mouth and thrusts deep inside her - again and again - staking his indelible, bone-deep claim on the girl who'll always own him. "Mine," he hisses in her ear. "You're mine."_

* * *

"If you got a death wish that's your fucking problem, just leave me the hell out of it," Opie snarls at him after they park their bikes in the TM lot. "I get it that you're pissed at yourself and pissed at me, but getting us pulverized into bloody roadkill won't help you find her. Any dumb shit can figure that out."

Ripping off his helmet, Jax returns Opie's glare. "Obviously," he snaps before stomping towards the Clubhouse. He and Opie may still be friends - the ties of Brotherhood run too deep for anything to sever them - but right now, Jax can barely stand the sight of him; it's too much of a reminder of his own blinding stupidity.

But Opie's not one to be shoved aside; he catches up with Jax, blocking his path like ominous tattooed tree. Despite whatever guilt he might feel over this cluster-fuck, Opie's clearly done bending over and taking Jax's shit. "Listen, asshole, did it ever occur to you that maybe I should be the one pissed off over all of this? How long have you been sporting wood for _my_ now-ex-girlfriend? If Tara and I hadn't broken up, would I have been the one trying to beat the shit out of you?"

Clamping his jaw shut, Jax turns away from his Opie's probing stare. It's not the first time his friend's lobbed those questions at him; since their brawl at the cabin, Opie's tried to ferret out the truth about Jax's closeted feelings for her. But he refused to say shit; it's nobody's goddamn business what happened between him and Tara - especially after Opie tossed away his claim by choosing Donna.

Jax lights a cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke as his eyes fixate on the dark spot not far from the Clubhouse door where he saw Tara for the last time. Fuck, there's not a goddamn thing he wouldn't give to be able to take back all the shit he did and said to her. If only he could push some cosmic rewind button to that magical night they'd spent together; he'd wake up in the morning and stay in bed with her all day - just like he'd wanted - instead of running off like a goddamn pussy. And then they'd face the future together, come what may.

But he can't go back in time, can't erase what happened. Closing his eyes, he tries to clear his head of the burning anger and self-loathing; Opie's right, he'll never get her back by trying to punish himself and everyone else who isn't her. A loud blast of motorcycle engines announces the arrival of the rest of his Brothers - and by the grim looks on their faces when they approach the Clubhouse, something's certainly fucked up.

Straightening, Jax nods at Opie as they move to join the others. Looks like shit's starting to percolate with SAMCRO's enemies, and he owes it to his Club to pull his head out of his ass and get his shit together. But that means he's got to get Tara back, or nothing will ever be right again

* * *

"You're wasting your goddamn time," Gemma barks at him as he stomps into the Clubhouse after yet another fucking day wasted searching for a girl who seems to have disappeared into thin air.

Worried shitless that Tara had made good on her earlier goal to enroll at an Ivy League school on the East Coast, Jax had dispatched the Club's designated computer hacker to try and find her. Surely, there couldn't be that many eighteen-year-old college students named Tara Grace Knowles. He'd pounced when Juice's hacking intel revealed that a Tara Knowles had enrolled at UC Berkeley, California's answer to the Ivy League - it made sense that she'd choose it given all the time she'd spent there attending science camps and other brainiac-fests.

Unfortunately, no one in the registrar's office or in the science departments or any of the student dorms would tell him shit about her or any damn thing, and trying to find her in the massive student population was fucking impossible. You'd think that just one of those geniuses he talked to would've known the smartest, most beautiful girl in the world. But no…It was like beating his head against the wall again and again.

Ignoring his mother, Jax stalks to the bar and pulls out a full bottle of Wild Turkey. Clay better not have anything planned for them tonight because he's got big plans to get completely shit-faced. Again.

But Gemma's nothing if not fucking persistent. Marching up to the bar, she snatches the bottle from his hand and slams it down on the counter. "Look Jackson, you need to stop this shit right now. Tara is gone! It's time to pull your head out of your ass and remember your first priority - this Club, your father's legacy. Don't you ever forget that."

"Mom…"

Skewering him with a menacing glare, she smacks her hand against the patches on his cut. "Your life is here, Jax. Your future is here - at the head of that table." She points towards the chapel where one day he would sit in his dad's old chair, gavel in hand. "But you can't ever lead this Club if the men don't respect you. And they won't respect you if you keep making an ass of yourself chasing after Opie's used pussy…"

Hot rage blasts through him as he grabs the bottle and hurls it against the wall, startling his Brothers who'd been playing pool a few feet away. Ignoring their confused and angry shouts, Jax turns on his startled mother. "Don't you EVER talk like that about Tara again," he hisses through clenched teeth. "Or it's the last conversation we have."

Unable to deal with the hurt bleeding into the fury on her face, Jax grabs a full bottle of scotch and storms out the door, intent on heading up to the rooftop to drink himself unconscious. But as he slams the door behind him, an all-too-familiar crusty voice freezes him in his tracks.

"Are my old ears playing tricks on me or did you just threaten to take out your own mother?" Puffing on a cigarette, Piney steps out of the shadows. Judging from the knowing look on his face, the old guy heard every word of Jax and Gemma's not-so-loving mother-son talk and had something to say about it.

Jax rolls his eyes as his dad's best friend strolls towards him. "'Old ears' my ass," he mutters; the wily Vietnam vet could hear shit happening a mile away. "Nah, just a little family spat. It'll pass."

"I take it Gemma doesn't approve of you chasing after my son's girlfriend." Piney takes a long drag then blows the smoke into Jax's face.

"EX girlfriend," Jax snaps before he can stop himself. Shit, he's tried to avoid this confrontation. It's bad enough that Opie and the rest of SAMCRO found out about Jax's love for Tara; but unlike Opie, who really didn't give a shit because of Donna, Piney hasn't said dick to him since that fateful day at the cabin.

At first, Piney had directed his bellowing wrath at his son; he'd been beyond pissed to find out about Opie and Tara's break-up, almost disowning his only child after learning that Opie had torpedoed the relationship by cheating with Donna. But eventually blood ties won out, and Piney's stopped frothing at the mouth at the sight of Opie with his new Old Lady.

However, he's only extended that clemency to Opie; Jax's remained the shit under his shoes - as if the old guy knew about the awful things he said to Tara that sent her running from Charming and all of them.

Piney eyes him impassively until Jax feels himself starting to squirm like he's a kid again in trouble for doing some stupid shit. "What?" he finally barks out; it's been another bitch of a day, and he wants to be left the fuck alone.

"So you think if you find Tara, she'll drop everything and spread her legs for you," Piney scoffs, disdain dripping from every word. "Just like all the others, huh?"

The fury simmering in his gut ignites once again, and it takes every ounce of Jax's self-control not to drive his fists into the old man's sneering face. "It's not like that," he grits out instead, glaring murderously at the man who's pretty much been his father since JT's death. "She's not like that."

"You got that right," Piney growls, flicking cigarette ash at Jax's feet. "She's not one of your disposable whores. Maybe you need to leave her alone - let her be happy."

 _Leave her alone - let her be happy_ …Piney's words echo some of the rogue thoughts that've plagued him as well. Maybe Tara would be better off without him, a bad-tempered biker with zero prospects aside from inheriting a run-down garage and a criminal MC. But those doubts get blown to hell when he remembers his time with her…how radiantly she smiled at him, how tightly she held him, how fervently she said she loved him - again and again. No, he can never leave Tara alone; they belong together.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jax can see her grinning at him on the day they met. "I can make her happy," he declares quietly, staring intently at the other man despite Piney's snorts of disbelief. "I will make her happy." He turns to leave, only to stop once again when Piney grabs his arm.

"Not so fast, Kid." Piney snatches the bottle of scotch. "I need you to do something for me - right now." Smirking as Jax scowls in annoyance, he opens the bottle and takes a swig. "Go to my house, there's some papers I need you to bring to me. They're in my den, top desk drawer."

"You got to be fucking kidding me, tell the Prospect…"

"I'm telling YOU, Boy! This ain't a request. Get your lazy goddamn ass on your bike and be back here with my shit in fifteen minutes or it'll be you - not the Prospect - who'll be scrubbing the shitter for a month. Got it?"

Rooted to the spot, Jax watches in disbelief as the other man stomps into the Clubhouse. What the fuck just happened? For a brief moment, he considers telling Piney to fuck off and ride to Lodi to get hammered in peace. But that would be a dumbass move that could earn him Prospect duty for longer than a month or worse; Piney's the Club VP, and insubordination is serious shit - no matter how fucking stupid, Jax had to follow the old man's orders.

* * *

"Jesus…" Walking into Piney's den, Jax shakes his head in disgust at all the shit thrown everywhere. He's no model of good housekeeping, but shit, this place's fucking gross. "Goddamn it!" he yelps in pain after nearly tripping on an empty tequila bottle then stubbing his toe against a metal ammo box sitting in the middle of the floor.

Tara would've never let Piney get away with this shit. Every time she set foot in this house, she ruled over the Winston men like a relentless drill sergeant; Jax had to had to fight like hell not to burst out laughing every time he caught Piney washing dishes or actually putting clothes in a hamper instead of just tossing them wherever. Sighing, he picks up the empty bottle and a half a dozen empty beer cans and tosses them in the trash. Apparently Jax's not the only one who misses her.

It takes him a couple of tries to open the top drawer, it's so crammed full of papers. Finally tugging the drawer out, he makes a mental note to have the Prospect come over here to oil the rails. "Fuck," he grouses as a bunch of papers fall to the floor.

Jax leans over to pick them up, only to freeze as he recognizes the neat handwriting on a small envelope. Holy fucking shit, he grabs the envelope and stares intently at the precise script - Piney's name and address in the center, and in the top left corner…

Stuffing the letter in his pocket, he picks up the phone and calls the Clubhouse. As if by design, a familiar gravely voice growls a not-so-welcoming greeting on the other side.

"You need to cover for me," Jax skips any pretense; the old man knew what he'd find in the desk. "I'm going to San Diego."


	10. You're Always Dancing (Part 1)

**AN: SO sorry for the delay in updating. I've had a crazy month with work and RL. I just realized that it's been well over a month since my last update so I'm going to break this chapter in half and post the rest when I have more time over Thanksgiving. Thanks for being patient!**

* * *

 **YOU'RE ALWAYS DANCING (part 1)**

" _I'm sorry, but if you guys would've just told me you broke up, I wouldn't have said or done any of that shit to you." Cupping her silky cheeks in his hands, Jax stares deep into those gorgeous green eyes that've haunted him for so long. "I love you, Tara. You got to believe that."_

 _Uncertainty flickers across her beautiful face, but before he can spiral into panic mode, she blinds him what that brilliant smile. "I love you, too," she declares, wrapping her arms around his waist._

 _Joy and relief exploding inside him, Jax beams back at her before devouring that luscious pink mouth. During the eight-hour ride between Charming and San Diego he'd thought non-stop of what he'd say to her, how she'd react. He'd play to her rational brain, her sense of fairness - that because she and Opie had kept their break-up secret, he made a dumbshit decision and hurt her...hurt them both._

 _And it fucking worked! Squeezing a lush breast, he plucks at a puckered nipple through the thin fabric of her tank top then slaps himself a mental high-five as her soft, nimble hands unbuckle his belt then pull open his fly. Christ, how the hell did he think he could live without this for even a second? But then, despite the intoxicating pull of her overwhelming all his senses, a whisper of reason pokes at him. Reluctantly, he tears his mouth from hers. "Here?" he manages to gasp, blearily glancing around at the empty porch overlooking the empty street._

 _Tara shoots him a saucy smile, short-circuiting his few functioning brain cells, before pushing him to sit on the porch swing. "Oh, do you want me to stop?" Her lips hover above his as she slips a soft hand inside his boxers to fondle his swelling hard-on._

 _Unable to do more than grunt stupidly, Jax stares with slack-jawed fascination as she steps back then reaches under her short skirt to tug at her panties until they drop to the ground…holy, holy shit. Practically drooling with excitement, he crushes her to him as she straddles his thighs - surging upward to impale her on his rock-hard dick._

" _Christ, Tara…" He rasps in her ear, thrusting into her snug wet heat as she slowly starts to ride him. Filling his hands with her perfect ass, Jax hisses with pleasure as her tight pussy muscles squeeze his eager cock again and again. Soon the air's ringing with the sounds of her giggles, his muffled curses and their mingled moans as the swing sways back and forth, driving him deeper and deeper inside of her until…_

"Who are you?! Wake up! Wake up!"

Goddamn it! Jax's eyes spring open, although it's a challenge to focus with an old, spidery hand violently shaking his shoulder as rapid shouts in Spanish pierce his ears. "Okay, okay!" He desperately tries to get up, only to fall back on his ass when the porch swing pitches forward and clips the back of his legs.

The bony hand trying to scramble his brain finally stops, but it's a brief respite as he's confronted by a woman's angry, shriveled face - one that could probably scare the shit out of every one of his MC Brothers, Happy included.

"Answer me! Who are you? What are you doing on my property?" she demands in heavily accented English.

Head swimming from the abrupt end to yet another frustrating dream, Jax runs a shaky hand through his hair then attempts a weak smile to try and convince his irate host that he's not some inept would-be burglar or killer who'd just fallen asleep on the job. "Sorry, I was waiting for a friend of mine. I thought she lived here."

Expecting to find Tara in some small dorm room or run-down off-campus apartment, he'd been surprised when the return address on her letter to Piney led him to an old Spanish hacienda on a near-deserted cul-de-sac not far from the ocean. It wasn't as fancy or expensive looking as some of the houses he'd ridden past on the way here, but still more than what he could expect Tara could afford - especially since he knew her dad barely left her shit.

Unfortunately, no one had been home nor were there any neighbors around for him to question. So he'd parked himself on the porch swing to wait for her - and quickly fallen asleep, finally giving into his exhaustion after riding practically non-stop from Charming in his eagerness to see her and put all their bad shit behind them.

But judging from the diminutive home-owner glaring at him, there's a good chance he's in the wrong fucking place - that Tara had actually used a fake return address to really cover her tracks.

"Rosa, I'm going to put the boxes in the garage…"

Or not…His heart practically leaps out of his chest as the girl, who's been haunting every thought in his head, joins them on the porch. Those gorgeous green eyes widen with shock before shuttering as she regards him coldly. "What are you doing here, Jax?"

"You know him?" Rosa points a bony finger at him, sniffing disapprovingly - which makes Jax wonder what Tara might've told her unlikely friend. "Tu novio will not be so happy."

Now it's Jax's turn to scowl; he may not speak a lick of Spanish, but he's spent enough time around the Hispanic guys who work at TM as well as the occasional Latina crow-eater to recognize a handful of words. 'Tu novio' was about the last goddamn fucking thing he wants to hear regarding Tara. "We need to talk," he snaps, glaring at her resentfully.

Tara hesitates for a moment then nods. "I'll be back in a few minutes to help you with the boxes," she tells Rosa before turning on her heel to stomp down the steps, fully expecting Jax to follow her - which he does with steam practically blowing out of his ears.

She leads him to the side of the house before whirling around to skewer him with iciest glare he's seen from her yet. "I repeat - what are you doing here?"

He's practiced this scene with her so many times in his head: apologize for acting like an asshole, but also defend himself by pointing out her own culpability, then tell her he loves her. But instead, jealousy once again bites him in the ass. Hard. "What the fuck, Tara? You're seeing someone else already? So much for supposedly being in love with me…Apparently you're just one of those girls who always needs to have some poor chump to lead around by the balls…"

Another girl probably would've slapped him or started crying; the Tara Knowles he's seen in action would just slug him. So he's stunned stupid when she bursts out laughing.

"Oh, that's rich. You really are something else, Jax." Shaking her head, she gapes at him with disbelieving eyes. "Believe what you want, I don't have time for your shit anymore. Just tell me what you came here to say…Is something wrong with Opie? Piney?"

The worry on her face twists Jax's gut, effectively tossing gasoline on his already burning temper. Jesus Christ! Opie cheats on her for months, then dumps her for a mousy preacher's kid – yet the two-timing douchebag still gets top billing in her mind, despite the fact Jax's the one who busted his ass trying to find her then rode all this way to be with her. What goddamn fucking bullshit!

"So nice of you to still care so much about Opie," he sneers through clenched teeth. "Especially since he's too busy balling Donna to give a fuck about you." As she narrows her eyes, the tiny functioning part of his brain screams at him for being a goddamn idiot. He's supposed to be appealing to her rational side, not piss her off even more. "Everyone's fine," he sighs, trying to rein in his stupid fucking temper. "I came here to talk to you."

Crossing her arms, she regards him impassively. "Okay, so talk."

Jax opens his mouth only to snap it shut. Judging from the angry irritation radiating from her in waves, he's got to be real careful with what he says next. Stick to the plan, he tells himself; even though she's mad as hell at him now, no one's more reasonable than Tara Knowles. Once he explains, she'll understand why he did what he did then take him back so they both can be happy again. "Why didn't you tell me that you and Opie broke up?"

A dark brow arches upward as she frowns at him. "Excuse me?"

"You let me fuck you but didn't tell me it was ok - that you and Opie weren't together anymore. I felt like shit afterwards thinking I stabbed my best friend in the back. If only you guys just told me…"

Another bark of laughter from her shocks him silent once again. "Wow, Teller, your logic is truly one of a kind. After you got in my pants, you treated me like shit - more or less called me a whore - but it's _my_ fault you acted like a total asshole?" Tara shakes her head before pinning him with another withering glare. "Go to hell," she hisses before stomping away.

Lunging to block her path, Jax grabs her arms to force her to face him. "That's not what I meant." Actually it was, but not in the way she interpreted it. Hoping to blunt her outrage, he shoots her an imploring look. "I'm really sorry I hurt you, Tara. That's why I'm here - to tell you I'm sorry that I said all that shit to you. I didn't mean any of it; I just didn't want to hurt Opie. He's my Brother."

"Which is why I didn't say anything." She breaks free of his grasp. "I just assumed you knew that we broke up or you wouldn't have touched me. But it doesn't matter anymore; we've all moved on. You don't have to worry that you scarred me for life or anything, I'm fine."

 _I'm fine_. Meaning she's got a new boyfriend. Fuck that and fuck the douchebag, whoever the hell he is. "It does matter, Tara. We're supposed to be together. You said you loved me, and I…"

"Don't go there." She cuts him off, backing away. "I don't want to hear it. Not now, not ever. Go home, Jax; it's where you belong - with Opie and SAMCRO and your mother, not with me." With that she rushes off in a burst of speed, as if she couldn't stand to be near him for another second.

He's about to chase after her before a deep voice stops him in his tracks. "If you want a smart girl like her, you really can't be this stupid."

Whirling around to face the nosy bastard, Jax glares wrathfully at the tall dark-haired man stepping out from behind a tree. "Who the fuck are you, asshole?"

Instead of taking offense at Jax's greeting, the stranger smiles. "I own this place; Tara lives above my garage so you can say I'm her landlord. My name's Nero."


	11. You're Always Dancing (Part 2)

**YOU'RE ALWAYS DANCING (part 2)**

Unlike his mother, bad-tempered Rosa from the porch, Nero didn't seem to hate him on sight. In fact, the guy seemed downright amused by Jax's predicament - to the point of actually trying to help him. He'd cautioned Jax against chasing after Tara when she took off in her car - warning that, after his less-than-brilliant attempt at reconciliation, she'd probably rather run him down than listen to any more shit shooting out of his mouth.

"Since you scared her off, you mind helping me with that one?" Picking up one of the boxes Tara had abandoned in her rush to get away, Nero gestures to the remaining small box left on the ground - one that the tall, sturdy Mexican dude could easily lift one-handed. But sensing that the guy's got more to say to him, Jax grabs the box.

"Give her a little time," Nero counsels, motioning for Jax to follow him to the garage behind the house. "I may not know Tara as well as you, but from what I've know - she'll want time and space to make up her own mind. That one's real independent."

Jax rolls his eyes - no shit; that's the understatement of the year. "You have no idea," he murmurs. His eyes browse over the two-car, two-story garage before drifting up the outer stairs that led to the apartment where Tara's been living. He wonders if there's some way to convince Nero to let him inside.

"Not a chance," the man interrupts brusquely, reading Jax's mind. "Based on what I just saw, she'd kick my ass if I let you inside her place." Instead, he pulls out his keys and proceeds to unlock a rather mind-boggling number of deadbolts on the side door. What the fuck could he possibly have inside?

Following Nero into the dimly lit room, Jax drops the box next to the others then catches the can of beer Nero pulls from a small refrigerator and tosses his way.

"Sorry, I couldn't help listening - given both of you were yelling loud enough for the neighbors to hear, if I had any." Nero takes a swig of beer before peering at him curiously, a small smile teasing his mouth. "You actually thought she'd forgive you if you blamed her for your mistake?" He shakes his head in disbelief. "I'm sure a guy like you usually doesn't have problems with women, but I got to tell you…that's not too smart."

Popping the can open, Jax scowls at his host. "I don't recall asking for your fucking opinion." He downs half the beer in a few thirsty gulps.

"No, you didn't." Nero concedes. "But seeing how she couldn't get away from you fast enough, I'm thinking you could use some advice." He chuckles as Jax contemplates slamming a fist in the guy's all-too-knowing face. "Yeah, I know you want to punch me right now. But that's part of your problem, Kid. You only see your side of things."

Jax can't help but bark with bitter laughter over such unbelievable bullshit. "So are you supposed to be some kind of fucking psychic? We met a whole five minutes ago, and you know everything about me? Whatever, man."

"I know all about guys like you. Hell, I was one…a long time ago." Nero flips on the garage light, revealing a stable of Harleys that would drop jaws back at TM. Who the fuck was this guy?

"Holy shit…" Jax breathes, animosity draining away; it's hard to be pissed around such works of art. His eyes widen at the sight of a classic Harley EL Knucklehead. Fuck, the cherry red bike had to be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen - next to the green-eyed girl who lives above it. "You a collector?"

Shrugging, Nero takes another gulp of beer. "Mechanic - I own a shop not far from here. Rebuilding old bikes is a hobby of mine. That one…" He nods at the red bike. "…took me a few years to bring back to life. Belonged to a friend of mine. He was a guy just like you…MC so deep in his blood that you could smell it."

Jax tears his eyes from the bike to gape at the other man. He wasn't wearing a cut, and there's no way anyone could see his reaper tattoo through his shirt; how the hell did the guy know? Well, he wasn't confirming shit to Mr. Fucking-Know-It-All. But before Jax could tell the guy to mind his own goddamn business, he's distracted by a noise outside of someone climbing the stairs to the upstairs apartment. Tara's back!

Pulse racing, Jax shoots Nero a knowing smirk before racing out the door to intercept her; this time he'll convince her to listen to him. However, his excitement instantly freezes to cold rage at the sight of some slick blond asshole knocking on her door - a bouquet of flowers clutched in his other hand. "She not home," he hears himself barking like some pissed off guard dog.

The douchebag turns and immediately scowls down at him. "Who're you?" he demands imperiously, remaining on the landing as if still expecting Tara to open the door.

When they were little kids, he and Opie used to mock Donna endlessly for her collection of Barbie dolls; once they even stole her super-faggy Ken doll and blew it apart with Opie's firecrackers in the name of science. The creep looking for Tara reminded Jax of that plastic piece of shit. "Someone trying to save that limp wrist of yours," Jax snaps; what he wouldn't give for a stick of dynamite to shove up the prick's ass.

"Is that so?" Ken Doll sneers, slowly stomping down the stairs. His icy blue eyes scan Jax contemptuously. "And how would someone like _you_ know even know Tara?"

Apparently Ken Doll doesn't know shit about Tara's background or how _thoroughly_ Jax knows her. Smirking, he opens his mouth to educate the fucker - only to feel Nero's restraining hand on his shoulder as a silent, yet clear, shut-the-fuck-up warning.

"Hey, Nick," Nero greets the asshole with a welcoming smile. "When did you get into town?"

Shooting one last scowl at Jax, the douchebag's face transforms into a smarmy grin as he turns to Nero. "This morning. I'm here for the weekend and thought I'd surprise my girl."

"Well, she isn't home right now. But I'll tell her you stopped by as soon as she gets back - I'm sure she'll be happy to see you." Nero offers helpfully, his fingers digging into Jax's shoulder as if knowing how badly Jax's fists want to crush bones and spill blood on the asshole's pristine white Stanford t-shirt.

"All right, thanks - appreciate it. Tell her I'll call her about dinner tonight." Ken Doll tosses a smug glance at Jax - clearly unaware of how closely he's flirting with violent death - before heading back to his car.

Gritting his teeth, Jax watches him climb into his convertible cage and speed away. Pussy. "Who the fuck was that?" he hisses, wrenching away from Nero's grip.

"Friend of hers. Goes to school up north - Stanford. They met when he was here for some sports thing…I think he's on his school's swim team." Nero tells him matter-of-factly, his dark eyes swimming with amusement - which just pisses Jax off even more.

Oh for fuck's sake, Jax rolls his eyes. Tara's dating goddamn fucking Aquaman? Well that's over now; Tara belongs to him. He'd been willing to step aside for Opie's sake, but not for this asshole - or anyone else ever. That fucker's dead if he touches Tara again.

"You want to go for a ride?" Nero must've sensed the homicidal bent to his thoughts. "If you rode all the way here from Northern Cal, you must be hungry. Besides you'll need to be at full strength when she gets back."

Although he's tempted to tell the nosy bastard to fuck off, Jax decides to listen to his growling stomach and nods. He glances towards the garage where his dream bike's parked, only to hear Nero laughing once again. "No fucking way, mano. We'll take my truck."

* * *

"So how long have you known Tara?"

Jax chews his burger slowly, deliberately - anything to delay answering the question that'll lead into a conversation he's not sure he wants to have with this guy. On the ride here, he'd learned a little more about Nero Padilla beyond being Tara's tall Hispanic landlord who owned cool-as-shit Harleys.

While Jax remained mostly silent - as future King of SAMCRO, he's not some clueless dipshit who ever drops his guard around anyone - Nero had chattered nonstop about his family (Mean Mama Rosa and his young son who's got some sort of handicap that Jax's never heard of before) and his repair shop that once belonged to his grandfather. Still - although Nero seems like a good enough guy - Jax still doesn't fully trust him. Why in fuck's name does he want to know so much about Jax's business with Tara? Unless…

Dropping his burger, Jax can feel his temper spiking once again as he glares murderously at the man sitting across from him. "What's it to you?" he hisses through clenched teeth. The thought of this old motherfucker lusting after Tara makes him want to leap across the table and gouge the prick's eyes out with his fork.

"Christ, you are something else," Nero bursts out laughing, his whole body shaking with amusement at Jax's expense. "No, I'm not interested in her that way - shit, she's young enough to be my daughter. Definitely not my style." Then suddenly his face loses any trace of humor as he regards Jax somberly. "She's a good kid, helps out Ma and my boy when she's not at school or at her job. I took her on as a tenant because she needed a cheap place to live, and they need someone like her. That's what it is to me."

Flushing slightly, Jax nods, somewhat abashed over his rush to judgment (although who could blame him, given that he'd been raised by the men of SAMCRO who believed chasing young tail was an integral part of life). "I've known her for a few years," he finally admits. But that's it. Anything else is none of anyone's fucking business.

"Hmmm, I can't seem to picture her as one of those girls who hangs around bikers…"

"She isn't," Jax interrupts curtly, shooting Nero a warning look. "Tara's nothing like them." Lighting a cigarette, he peers at Nero through the smoke. "There you go again, playing at being a goddamn psychic. What the hell makes you think I'm in a Club? You don't know shit about me."

Leaning back against the booth, Nero smirks at him. "When Tara first saw my bikes, she told me her ex-boyfriend used to ride - him and all his friends. Didn't think anything of it until I saw you; like I said before, MC's in your blood - gives you a look in your eyes that I'd recognize anywhere. Let me guess…hick town in Northern California…SAMCRO, right?"

Jax tries to mask his surprise with another long drag on his cigarette. "Jesus Christ, what's next…you gonna read my palm?" He shakes his head, torn between wanting to get the fuck away from Nero's all-too-knowing gaze and hanging out to learn as much as he can about Tara's life here - minus the fucking advice. "You seem to know a lot about MC's - that because of your friend who owned the red bike?"

Nero shrugs at the change of topic. "My old man ran an MC charter in El Centro so I grew up in the life. From when I was a kid, the only things I wanted were a cut and a Harley. Finally patched in at eighteen with my cousin, Lucius…He was my best friend - the closest I had to a real brother. We were going to take over the Club once my old man was too old to ride."

Is this shit for real? Frowning, Jax gazes down at the SONS rings on his hand - a legacy from his old man, along with the Club he'll inherit one day. The Club, he and Opie plan to run together one day. "So what happened?" he hears himself asking. "You wearing the President's patch now? In the car you said your old man's dead."

Nero shakes his head but remains silent, staring out the window for a moment before turning those dark eyes on Jax. "When I was VP, Lu and I got busted for muling coke for the Club. Got five years in Lancaster. Most of it was no sweat, Brown takes care of Brown. But a few months before we were scheduled for release, Lu got into a serious beef with a guy in an Aryan gang. I kept telling him to let that shit go, but he wouldn't leave it alone…One day, the guy was found beat to hell - he died before they could get him transferred to a real hospital. Just as well, probably would've been a vegetable if he'd survived."

Christ, this wasn't going to end well. Despite the fact he's never spent more than a couple of hours in Charming's jail, Jax knows all about the horrors that could happen inside, especially when dealing with sadistic monsters with nothing more to lose. Transfixed, his eyes bore into Nero - who's staring out the window once again, as if searching for an alternate end to an obviously painful past.

"Five years - right on time - I got out. Alone. Even though we had protection inside, those Nazi bastards could always find a way to get to anyone, any time."

Jax clenches his fists, his blood chilling at the thought of what Nero must've suffered; he can't imagine what he'd do if he lost Opie - or any of this Brothers. "You retaliate? That's what I'd fucking do. Kill every one of those bastards with my bare hands."

Once again Nero shakes his head. "My Club got their revenge eventually. They waited until I was released, then my uncle and my old man used their contacts in Lancaster to exterminate all those skinhead pricks. As for me…when I got out of prison, I got out of all of it. Never went back to El Centro - blacked out my ink. My old man didn't deal any repercussions, but he never talked to me again either. My other cousin runs the Club now, but he leaves me alone. They all do."

"And now you're living happily ever after with your mom and your kid and your grandpa's bike shop. Happy for you, Bro." Jax's eyes narrow with suspicion. "So why'd you tell me all this shit? You don't even know me. Tell me you're not one of those ex-cons who has to reform everyone…this isn't one of those bullshit scared straight lectures, is it? If so, you're wasting your fucking time."

The haunted look vanishes from the older man's face, replaced by that now-familiar-annoying-as-fuck knowing smirk. "Hey, you asked. I don't have a problem talking about my life. Unlike some people."

Jax scowls at him before guzzling down the rest of his beer. "So does Tara really like that guy?" Oh fuck, he can't believe that shit just spilled out of his mouth. When did he turn into such an insecure little pussy?

Nero must've sensed heard something pathetic in Jax's tone or saw it on his face because there's no teasing glint in those dark eyes when he answers. "Yeah, I think she does…But you can't get pissed off about that. When I first met Tara, she never smiled - never laughed, except when she'd play with Lucius, my son. I thought it was a damn shame - pretty young girl like that shouldn't be that sad all the time."

Christ. Jax closes his eyes as all-too-familiar guilt rips through him. He'd been a total fucking idiot to say that shit to her; there's not a day since learning the truth that bitter regret didn't seep all the way to his bones like poison. But he's here now, ready to do any goddamn thing that'll make her forgive him.

"When she met Nick, she started smiling all the time. He's been good for her."

Bullshit. Feeling his temper rise, Jax grips the table top to keep from storming away in a furious huff. For some reason, he feels compelled to convince Nero that he's way better for Tara than fucking Aquaman. "Listen, if you think I'm going to give up because…"

"But then I saw her with you today…" Nero leans back in his chair, his dark eyes still fixed on Jax. "Yeah, she's mad now but if you can somehow fix it with her, well…I've only known Tara for a few months, but I've never seen her - or anyone, for that matter - look at another person the way she looked at you."

Jax releases a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as a broad grin spreads across his face. Holy shit, that felt good to hear.

"Just stop talking out of your ass."

* * *

"What are you still doing here, Jax?"

Startled, he nearly rips a hole in the notebook page with his pen before looking up to find a Tara looming above him. Sitting on the front step leading up to her apartment, he'd been so engrossed in his writing that he didn't hear her approach. Clutching a small paper bag, she looks more curious than pissed - which is a damn good sign. He hopes.

"Waiting for you." Standing, he notices her eyes widen slightly at the sight of the small black leather notebook in his hand - the same one she gave him years ago (although he's re-filled the pages a million times since then). "We need to talk, Tara. I'm not leaving here until we do."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I heard what you had to say before - it's pure bullshit that…"

"You're right." He holds his hands up in surrender, watching her pink mouth drop open and dark brows shoot up in surprise. "I was a total dick, Tara. That night with you was the best night of my life - but it's true that I felt like shit when I thought I'd stabbed my best friend in the back. I just shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm sorry."

Those green eyes gaze at him thoughtfully for a moment before brushing past him to climb up the stairs. "Come on inside. My ice cream's going to melt."

Heart beating hopefully, Jax follows her - his eyes glued to that lusciously perfect ass that first caught his attention and never let go. Soon, he tells himself, that ass and the rest of her will be his again.

Her apartment is an airy open space that serves as a living room, dining room, bedroom and kitchen with two separate doors leading to a bathroom and closet. One big window overlooks the copse of trees in the backyard and the ocean in the distance. It suits her, and he loves it instantly.

"Nice place," he comments as she puts the ice cream in the freezer. His eyes (naturally) drift to the full-size bed in the corner next to the window. The fat pillows, cream colored sheets and thick quilt look so inviting - it'd be so great to lay back on those pillows as she rides him, wearing nothing but sunlight…

"Not a chance, Teller." Her flat voice effectively douses cold water on the start of another hot fantasy. Leaning against the counter, she crosses her arms. "So tell me, how did this scenario play out in your head?"

Moving as close to her as he think she'll let him, he stares down into her beautiful face. "Happily ever after…you and me. We have a chance now, Babe."

"Do we?" She arches a brow, her green eyes doubtful. "You would leave SAMCRO and move here?"

Fuck no. Recoiling at the thought, he gapes at her in surprise. The Sons were his legacy. His future. Their future.

At his shocked silence, she shakes her head. "That's what I thought…you expected me to give up my life here and follow you back to Charming, right?"

Well yeah…although, based on the tone of her voice, she's not exactly open to the idea. But he can be accommodating - for her. "We don't have to live in town…we could find a place between there and where you decide to go to school. You always seemed to like Cal." Anywhere but Stanford; she's not getting any closer to that Ken Doll prick.

Sighing, she closes her eyes briefly before shaking her head once again. "I'm not leaving, Jax. I have a life here: a full scholarship at one of the best pre-med schools in the country, possibly a fast track into their med school. And the Padillas have been so great; Rosa and Lucius need me - I can't abandon them."

"Tara…" His protest cuts short when she rests her soft hand on his back, shooting excited prickles up and down his spine.

"And then there's this…" Her fingers trace the area where the reaper marks his skin. "Opie cheating with Donna wasn't what killed things with us. Okay, that was part of it, but we were more or less done before I caught them." Those green eyes bore into his. "I found out that SAMCRO's not just a motorcycle club - I know about the guns, about the violence. I didn't want that in my life, and he knew it."

Her hand drops from his back, only to be captured and gripped by his. "Tara, the Club's not what you think. What we do is a little outside the law but…"

"Spare me," Tara snaps, tugging her hand away from him. "I'm not an idiot, Jackson. I spent enough time in your Clubhouse to hear things, and unlike your precious croweaters, I can think for myself." Putting distance from them, she walks over to her couch and sits down, eyes focused out the window. "But for you…I thought I could live with it, so we could be together…"

"And we can be." Undeterred, he follows then slides in next to her. "We're supposed to be together. Just give it chance. I said I was sorry for what I did - just tell me what I need to do to make it up to you." He flashes her his most contrite expression then frowns when she narrows her eyes at him as if assessing his level of bullshit. Jesus, he's never groveled before - what the fuck's he supposed to do now?

His frustrated anxiety ratchets up a notch as she scoots away from him. "Even if I were to forgive you, Jax, I'm not Old Lady material. Your mom was right about that." She waves away his attempted protest. "I'm not leaving here, and you won't leave Charming or SAMCRO. Do you really expect me to believe that you wouldn't cheat? I've learned that's not something to expect of men in cuts."

"I'm not Opie," Jax counters hotly. "You can't punish me for his mistake." He thinks of tossing fucking Aquaman in her face, but he doesn't want to talk about that prick right now. Not ever.

She snorts with disbelief. "Really? Jax, you forget that I've seen you with women for years. You've never been faithful to anyone ever. But believe it or not, that's only part of the reason we won't work."

"Christ, you have _list_?"

"I know you spent some time with Nero...He must've told you about his past."

He shrugs impatiently; what the fuck does that have to do with anything? "Yeah, a little - he was in his dad's MC until he went to jail for muling coke. His best friend died so he walked away."

"Jax, his best friend didn't just 'die' - Rosa told me that he was butchered by a bunch of skinheads who made Nero watch. And then they beat the shit out of him so badly that he had to serve the rest of his time in the prison infirmary until the guards rolled him out the gates in a wheelchair. It took him nearly a year of rehab before he could walk again…All of that bad, bloody shit because two boys in cuts blindly followed orders from a man with a president's patch on his chest."

Rubbing his suddenly throbbing forehead with the heel of his hand, Jax eyes her warily. "No, he didn't tell me all of that…What the hell do you want from me, Tara? I love you…more than anyone. But I can't quit my Club…it's who I am."

"Only because you make it so…I've been telling you for years that you're so much more. But then that's reason we won't work," she tells him softly before rising to her feet. "It's the choice I know you'll make when you have to choose between a life with SAMCRO or a life with me."


	12. Every New Boy That You Meet (part 1)

AN: So sorry it's taken so long for this update. Yes, work and life have been busy but also I've been struggling for inspiration to write even thought this story's been outlined for months. Thanks so much for being patient with me; I think (hope) I've found my muse again.

This was supposed to be a much longer chapter but since I've made you wait so long, I decided once again to cut a chapter in half and post separately to avoid even longer delay.

* * *

 **EVERY NEW BOY THAT YOU MEET (part 1)**

Six months in County…

It's the longest stretch he's ever had to serve; other than the occasional busts for D&D or fighting or both, he's never spent more than a few hours in Charming's town jail. But a combination of dumbshit moves and bad fucking luck landed both him and Otto on the wrong side of a couple of tight-ass Sanwa sheriff deputies - which led to the half-year vacation in this shithole.

Actually it shouldn't have been all that horrible - Clay made deals to secure them protection inside and, in addition to Otto, he wound up knowing a few guys already here. So it was a fucking party.

Except where he ached to be was hundreds of miles away.

" _So you're going?" Crossing her arms, Tara eyes him knowingly as he hangs up the phone. She'd just voiced her doubts that he'd choose her over his Club when her phone rang. It'd been Piney calling for Jax._

 _He hesitates then nods reluctantly. "We've got some important stuff to handle…Piney's covering for me until I get back, then we're leaving for Oakland in the morning."_

" _Let me guess - another bike show?" She rolls her eyes before brushing past him to open one of her kitchen cabinets._

" _Tara…"_

 _She pulls out a couple bottles of water and a box of granola bars, which she shoves his way. "Here - put these in your bag. It's a long ride back."_

 _Ignoring the pile she'd stacked on the counter by his messenger bag, he grabs her arm and tugs her towards him. "I'm not giving up on us, Babe." She resists initially but then stills as their eyes lock. "I love you, Tara. I may be a fucking idiot sometimes, but I know we can make this work."_

 _She shakes her head and tries to pull away. "How? Even if I decided to forgive you - which I haven't - I told you that I'm not leaving here. Also, you know I'm seeing someone else now."_

 _Hot fury sears through him as he tightens his grip on her. "Yeah, I met your dipshit Ken doll," he grits out through clenched teeth. At her raised brow, Jax scowls down at her. "Get rid of him, Tara - or I will…"_

 _Her eyes flash with indignation but before she can protest, he cups her face and claims her mouth in a rough, scorching kiss - emphatically stamping his possession on the only girl who's ever mattered. "You belong with me, Tara," he murmurs as his lips drift down to brush her sensitive neck, smiling smugly to himself at her ragged breathing and the goosebumps prickling her skin. "I'm willing to move anywhere within reason so you can go to a good school - but it's got to be closer to home. I'm not leaving my Club."_

 _Jax smothers her would-be objections with another hot kiss before picking up his bag and opening the front door. "I'll be back in a couple of days to help you pack."_

" _Goddamn it, Jax. I'm not…"_

 _He shuts her up with one final hard kiss then slams the door behind him, smirking to himself as he heads down the stairs towards his bike._

It's been almost a week since he walked out of Tara's apartment, leaving her gaping at him in shock and confusion - not what he'd planned, but definitely better than outright rejection. Especially since he could sense her struggle - despite her resolute insistence to stay in San Diego, there'd been a glimmer of uncertainty in those green eyes and she didn't tell him to fuck off (something that he'd expect from an outraged Tara Knowles). So another plus in his favor.

However, even with the tiny bud of hope lodged in his brain, he'd ignored all the urges to call her during the ride back home or on the run to Oakland - more than a little afraid that she'd come to her senses and tell him to stay the hell out of her life. But now that Sanwa County jail's his home for the next six months, Jax wishes that he'd called her at least once because there's no fucking way he wants to do it now from lock-up. He can't tell her that he's in jail for reckless driving and assault on "peace officers," and he sure as shit can't tell her that he and Otto wound up here for luring a pair of asshole deputies into a high-speed chase as a diversion so his Brothers could quickly stash the new shipment of AK's they'd just brought in from Oakland. She'd tell him to fuck off for sure.

Which leads him to the problem at hand: he doesn't want her to know he's in jail, but he can't be out of contact for six months - especially with that shitbag, Aqua Man, sniffing around her. Jax can only hope that Tara values the asshole's life enough not to doubt his threat to make the prick disappear. But Jax doesn't want her thinking he'd bailed on her either. So, there's only one thing to do - tell Opie to lie his ass off.

"You're out of your goddamn mind." Opie shakes his head in disbelief then peers at Jax through the glass window separating the prisoners from their visitors. "You do know that Tara hates my ass now. There's no way she'll even talk to me much less believe anything I tell her, especially that bullshit story. Seriously, just call her yourself. Tell her the truth, that you're in jail and will see her in six months."

Jax rolls his eyes then scowls at his best friend in exasperation. "Just do it, Ope," he hisses. "You, of all people, know about Tara's issues with the Club. I don't want her to think we're just a bunch of criminals." His glare intensifies when Opie bursts out laughing. "Shut the fuck up, asshole."

"Fine, you win," Opie sighs. "I'll tell her that Clay sent you on a top-secret trip to Ireland…Any specific reason why? To hunt leprechauns? Set up a SAMCRO potato farm? If I tell her it's Club business, her head's gonna go in a direction you don't want. Trust me on that."

Chewing on his bottom lip, Jax scours his own brain for anything that could sound remotely believable to the smartest person he knows. Usually he wouldn't give a shit whether a chick believed him or not - but with Tara, his future's on the line. "Tell her it's got something to do with my old man. She knows he spent a lot of time in Ireland before he died." Jax feels a little sick using JT's memory to lie to Tara, but somehow he thinks his dad would approve given how important Tara is to him.

Opie eyes him skeptically but then nods. "Ok, Bro. I'll get her number from my dad." He slumps back in his chair and smiles ruefully. "You better hope she doesn't hang up on me."

* * *

He hadn't actually lied to her, Jax assures himself, slipping a letter to Tara inside the envelope addressed to Opie. Technically he hadn't been the one to tell her his BS story about getting sent to Ireland to settle some old business for JT; good ol' Ope had done that dirty work as well as sending Jax's letters to Tara with the note it'd been received with a pack of other letters from Ireland to Gemma and the guys.

And in all the letters Jax'd sent her since getting locked up three months ago, he never once mentioned Ireland or anything about the Club. Instead he'd filled pages with recollections of their shared memories, thoughts about books he'd read that she might like and - most importantly - his vision and dreams of the future he wants with her.

" _Another_ letter to the girlfriend, Teller? You're turning into a clingy little bitch."

Jax scowls murderously at the smirking guard as he thrusts the unsealed envelope between his cell bars into the jailhouse mail cart. Fighting off the urge to shoot the asshole the bird, he grits his teeth as the nosy fuck picks up the letter and flips through the contents pretending to search for illegal contraband. Scanning the Jax's latest note to Tara, he shakes his head and clucks with mock sympathy. "All your lovey-dovey angst, and the bitch doesn't even bother to visit. Probably too busy fucking someone else, if you ask me."

Tightening his grip on the bars – and pretending it's the prick's throat - Jax remains silent. No fucking way he's going to let this douchebag bait him into losing his shit and getting more time added to his sentence; he's only got a few months left and nothing's going to stop him from walking out of here after his six months are done.

He watches sullenly as the guard, realizing his prisoner won't be goaded, tosses the envelope back into the cart with all the other inmate communications awaiting inspection and pushes forward to annoy the inmates in the next cell. It sucks knowing that these officious pricks read his heartfelt words meant for Tara, but that won't stop him from writing to her. It's true that, after his colossally stupid fuck-up, he can't disappear from her life for six months, but he also needs the connection like a lifeline. There's not an hour that goes by when he doesn't wonder how she's doing, what she's thinking - and he knows that she'll read his letters, no matter how pissed she may still be at him.

" _You'd write to me if I moved away college, won't you?" Twinkling green eyes peer at him over a shot glass before closing as she tosses back the tequila._

 _Jax forces down the dread pinching his insides and shrugs casually before gulping down his beer; he hates like hell that she's even considering moving even one mile further from him. "I don't know, Tara. I'm not really a pen-pal kind of guy. Maybe you should save us all the cost of stamps and go somewhere around here." He flicks an irritated glance at Opie, laughing it up at the pool table with Kyle and Lowell. If Tara were his girlfriend, he'd be by her side 24/7 convincing her to stay local._

 _She slides the shot glass over to him so he can fill it again. "You know I have to go where I can get a scholarship, Jax. My dad doesn't have the money for me to go to college."_

 _Snorting, he pours the tequila in her glass and his own. Fuck the glass, he guzzles the booze straight from the bottle; anything to blunt both his panic and the ever-present hard-on tenting his jeans every time he's this close to her. "I don't know what you're worried about…you're the bright and beautiful Tara Knowles - colleges will be throwing money at you."_

 _Her creamy cheeks flush pink as she beams him a brilliant smile that both lights up his world and sucks all the oxygen from his lungs. "You smooth talker; I can see why all the girls fight over you." She tosses back the shot then gazes at him intently. "I want you to promise to write me if I go. I really do love your writing, Jax. Promise me, please…"_

 _If anyone else - even Opie - made that request, Jax would've laughed his fucking ass off. But Tara…there's not a goddamn thing in this world he wouldn't do for her. Maybe it's too much tequila or staring into that beautiful face that seems to haunt him day and night, he finds himself nodding. "Okay..." he sighs. "I promise."_

* * *

" _Hell is - other people!"*_

That's for damn sure; there were some seriously annoying fuckers in this hell-hole. Jax tosses the paperback that he'd just finished reading onto the library table and stares blankly at the white cover. He'd been surprised to find the book in County's tiny jail library; existential philosophy seemed somewhat out of place with the low-rent rabble in this pit, himself included. The only reason he knew of it was because of his old man, who had bookshelves crammed with these kinds of books. For most of his life, Jax ignored JT's battered collection; having to waste time in school sucked enough, he didn't need piss away his free time buried in some musty old book - especially when he could be buried inside some hot croweater instead.

But after JT died, Jax would find himself drawn to his old man's dark study; he'd go in there and stare at his dad's beloved books - sometimes flipping through a well-worn copy, trying to absorb the words John Teller found so inspiring. Yet it wasn't until the first time Tara showed up at his house that his kindled interest in JT's library beyond trying to connect with his dead father.

" _Wow, are these your books?" While Opie and Lowell make a beeline to the kitchen for a beer, Tara's rooted in the doorway of JT's den gaping admiringly at the crammed bookshelves. Normally, Jax would've followed his best friend for that drink, but he can't drag his eyes away from the sight of Tara in cut-offs, the snug denim cupping that luscious ass and those long, lean bare legs that he'd give any and every goddamn thing to wrap around his waist. Shit._

 _Trying to discreetly adjust the growing bulge tenting his jeans, he brushes past her to stroll inside the room then beckons her to join him. "They belonged to my old man, so I guess you can say they're mine now since the only books Gemma reads have recipes."_

 _She flashes him a quick grin before turning towards the shelves, standing on tip-toe to scan all the titles. "You're so lucky! Have you read them all?"_

 _Jax takes advantage of her complete absorption with the books to drink in the sight of her glossy dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, exposing her creamy soft neck and shoulders. He shoves his hands into his pockets to keep from grabbing her and latching his mouth to all that silky skin - especially the naked swell of her truly world class rack peaking above her tank top. "Uh, not all of them," he manages to croak._

" _Well I'd read all of them, if I could." She pulls out a slim white paperback and thumbs through the pages. "Actually I just finished this one. It's a play about three people who die and their afterlife is to be locked in a room together for eternity. I loved it."_

" _Sounds depressing." He leans a shoulder against the shelf and smirks at her. "In case you haven't noticed - it's summer, Tara. You should focus on the happy shit."_

 _The most beautiful girl in the world quirks an imperious eyebrow at him. "For your information, Teller, reading any book make me happy - not just the happily-ever-after ones. Honestly, sometimes it's the darker stuff I find the most uplifting. Knowing that someone else had the same problems, the same doubts and wanted things to be different - well that's better than a fairytale any day." She flicks another glance at the cover before replacing it on the shelf. "Seems like your dad may have felt the same way. Maybe if you read a few of these books, you can learn more about him…and maybe a little more about yourself."_

After that day he consumed JT's books, reading some of them more than once - including the thin paperback lying on the table in front of him. "No Exit" - in retrospect he could now see why Tara had desperately wanted to go away to school. For her, hell had definitely been life with her abusive old man and the ass-backward shitheads who'd mocked her for having such a fucked-up family and for being too smart and too weird in their narrow minds. She'd seen college as her exit before life trapped her with those people and turned her into one of them.

" _So this is hell. I'd never have believed it. You remember all we were told about the torture-chambers, the fire and brimstone, the 'burning marl.' Old wives' tales! There's no need for red-hot pokers. Hell is - other people!"*_

Even though JT had underlined that passage, surely he hadn't been referring to his life in Charming. There's no way - his old man had it perfect: a loving family and Presidency of a bad-ass MC with Brothers who respected and admired him. It's everything Jax wants for himself. His old man must've been thinking about the fuckers outside their SAMCRO circle: cops, Mayans, even the handful of fucking annoying idiots who serviced their cars at TM. John Teller had it all, and one day Jax will, too - SAMCRO and Tara.

"Somehow I knew I'd find you in here." Otto plops into the chair across from him. He flicks a glance at the book on the table then at the guard watching them like hawks and rolls his eyes. "Seriously man, we don't get much time out of that fucking cell, and you waste it in here instead of out in the yard makin' friends. You're definitely JT's kid."

Shrugging, Jax barks out a short laugh. "I will take that as a compliment. Besides, I get more than enough of all you stinky assholes 99% of the day. Speaking of which, what the fuck are you doing in here? Did you get lost on the way to the phones? Luann's gonna freak out if you're late for your daily round of guard-monitored phone sex."

If there's anyone in County who could understand how much he's aching for Tara, it would be Otto. The guy's been hopelessly whipped since he first laid eyes on Luanne before Jax was even born. He grins as Otto shoots him a death glare; normally, a smartass comment like that about Luann would've warranted a cuff across the head. But not with a guard eyeing their every move, ready to write them up and add months to their stay here at Fantasy Island.

"Watch your mouth, kid," Otto growls then cracks his knuckles for effect. "I'm here 'cause I got a message from Clay. We've got a little business to take care of." He flicks another glance at the guard before leaning closer to Jax. "The Cacuzzas need our help."

Holy shit - what the fuck's Clay thinking by ordering them to conduct SAMCRO business while inside when they're both so close to getting out? "What the hell?" Jax hisses. "We can't be taking anyone out in here…there's too much risk."

Otto's eyes narrow to slits as he stares at Jax coldly. "You'll do what I tell you - got it? Clay's gonna confirm the details with Jimmy Sr., and then get word to me tomorrow on visiting day. Just be ready." With that, Otto leans back in his chair then picks up the book on the table, staring at the cover in confusion. "'No Exit?' How the fuck can you have a room with no exit? If there's a door to get in, then you've got a door to get out."

Gritting his teeth, Jax chokes back the rage swirling through him. Goddamn Clay! He should fucking know what could happen to him and Otto if they start playing SAMCRO mafia here in County. Since getting patched in, Jax's heard all about Brothers who've done the Club's dirty work while inside - never to walk out again. Now he's less than eight weeks away from freedom - so close to taking that ride to San Diego and bringing Tara back home with him. So close to the life he's wanted for years now. Except for Clay and his fucking endless appetite for money and power.

Hell _is_ other people. That's for fucking sure.

* * *

Normally Jax looks forward to visiting day - the one day each week he gets to see his mom or Opie and get connected back to the world outside. But today he's dreading it, knowing that Luann will be delivering Clay's message to Otto. Shit. And to make things worse, it's Gemma's turn to visit him this week - how the fuck's he supposed to pretend all's good when he and Otto may wind up getting more time added to their sentence because of her fucking husband.

However, all his rage vanishes instantly, along with every thought in his head, when he strides into the visiting room and freezes in his tracks - because it's not Gemma sitting in the visitor's chair on the opposite side of the glass.

Those gorgeous green eyes gaze at him impassively as she picks up the phone and waits for him to do the same. Swallowing hard, Jax sinks heavily into the chair then slowly, reluctantly lifts the receiver from the base. As much as he's been dying to see her, he'd give just about anything for this moment to be yet another fucking nightmare.

"This isn't exactly Ireland, is it?"

"Tara…" Jax pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to fight off the ache pounding in his head while desperately grasping to figure out what the hell to say to her. He's going to wring his mother's neck; it's no coincidence that Tara shows up here on the day Gemma's supposed to visit - and of course mommy dearest is nowhere in sight.

She raises a hand to silence him. "I don't need to hear any excuses for why you lied to me. It's pretty clear you didn't want me to know you got arrested."

"Let me guess - Gemma told you." Leaning towards the glass - anything to be closer to her - Jax drinks in the sight of the girl who's haunted his thoughts and hot, x-rated fantasies since the day he met her. Maybe it's wistful thinking on his part, but she doesn't look pissed at him. If that's the case, maybe he won't kill his mom after all.

Tara looks down at her hands as she twirls the phone cord. "I got worried when Opie sent a note that no one knew how to reach you in Ireland. So I called Gemma…I couldn't believe that she'd ever not keep tabs on you. I guess that's true."

Jax groans silently; in addition to Opie and Piney, all the guys knew the Ireland cover story to tell her if she ever came looking for him. It never occurred to him that she'd go straight to Gemma given their not-so-friendly relationship. "Look Tara, I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth…I didn't want you to think of me as some criminal."

Her pink lips curve, sending his pulse racing; it's been too fucking long since she's smiled at him. "I'd never think that about the Jax Teller I've known all these years, the one who wrote me such beautiful letters."

Heart pounding, Jax flattens his hand against the glass then lights up for the first time since he got sentenced when she presses her hand against his.

"Soon Tara…We'll be together soon."

* * *

*No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartres


	13. Every New Boy That You Meet (part 2)

**AN: Another huge apology for taking so long to update, although not sure if anyone's still interested in this story at this point** **. But it's almost done, just one more chapter left.**

 **Sadly, I've been losing interest in writing fanfiction as work & RL have been so busy + I've been exploring the idea of writing an original novel (still a lot of research and outlining left before I can get there). But I re-watched SOA S1-2 on Netflix over the 4** **th** **holiday and that kind of re-inspired me: Jax & Tara are still so real, there's never been a pair on TV or in the movies that I've seen with that chemistry (ok, Brad & Angelina in Mr. & Mrs. Smith).**

 **Thanks again so much for all your support & hope this chapter has been worth the wait.**

* * *

 **EVERY NEW BOY THAT YOU MEET, pt. 2**

"Soon Tara…We'll be together soon."

The smile that lit up the room just moments ago fades as she glances around at the other inmates and visitors before fixing on him once again. "You have to promise me that you'll be careful in here, Jax." Her dark brows wrinkle as fear creeps into those green eyes. "You know what happened to Nero's cousin when they went to jail. I'd die if…Please Jax, don't do anything to make trouble with these people. Promise me."

Call him an asshole, but Jax can't help the big shit-eating grin that spreads across his face; Tara wouldn't be this worried, wouldn't have come all this way to visit if she didn't love him back. "Don't worry, Babe. What happened to Nero's cousin was at a state prison in fucking gang-banger central. This is county jail; I'm in here with a bunch of drunk drivers and compulsive shoplifters."

Not buying his glib attempts at reassurances for a second, she shakes her head then glares at him. "Don't try to downplay this, Jax. You forget how much time I spent in your Clubhouse. I've heard Tig brag about beating up Mayans and other people when he was locked up in this very jail - and getting away with it. He said that the guards are too scared of the prisoners to do anything."

Rolling his eyes, Jax makes a mental note to beat the fuck out of his crazy asshole Brother for saying that shit in front of her. "Come on, you can't believe anything that comes out of that idiot's mouth. Anyway, Clay arranged protection for us before we even got in here. Trust me, nothing's going to happen. I promise."

She stares at him for a moment before nodding slowly. "Ok," she sighs then quirks her lips ruefully. "I guess if anything, I should be worried about myself…I'm on your mom's shit list again."

"Who isn't? I live on that list." Jax shrugs, brushing aside her worry. "I can't imagine what you could've done to piss her off any more than the rest of us." No need to dredge up how much his endless obsession with the gorgeous girl in front of him had Gemma frothing at the mouth.

Tara's gaze drops to her fingers fiddling with the phone cord. "Well, I probably wasn't very nice when I called her…When she told me you weren't in Ireland, I called her a lying bitch." Suppressing a bark of laughter, Jax tries his best to look contrite - and apparently fails miserably based on the scowl she shoots his way.

"After she told me you were really in jail, I had to apologize." Her perfectly pert nose scrunches in distaste. "So when she asked me to stop at TM and pick up a package she wanted to give you, I said okay. But then I got a flat tire outside of Fresno that took a long time to fix. I didn't want to be late for visiting hours, so I bailed on her."

What the fuck would his mom need Tara to deliver to him? By the time the guards finish inspecting every inch of it, he'd be ready for release from this shithole. "I'm sure it's fine, Babe," he assures her. "There's not a damn thing she could give me that's better than having you here right now."

A rosy flush stains her smooth cheeks as she gazes at her hand pressed up against his on the glass separating them. "So you're out of here in two weeks?" A small smile tugs at her lips, sending electricity charging through him. Suddenly two weeks seems like a goddamn eternity.

"Thirteen days to be exact." He leans even closer to the glass, wanting more than anything for it to melt away so he could touch her soft skin. "There'll be a big party at the Club that night. It'd be great if you could be there..." Christ, he hopes that didn't sound as desperate to her as it did to him.

"I don't know, Jax." Her hand slides off the glass as she evades his eyes - striking a blow to the persistent hope he'd stubbornly harbored of her instantly embracing life as his Old Lady once he gets the hell out of here. "Despite everything…You and me…I want that."

Jax releases the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "So do I, Babe. More than anything."

"But what I don't want is SAMCRO. I can't be Gemma or Luann..." Those sparkling eyes that own him so completely scan what must be his stony expression. "I want us to be together, and I'll go anywhere with you…but not Charming, I can't live that life. I don't ever want to visit you in jail again." Her gaze locks with his. "You have to make choice."

He bristles with temper but then forces himself to calm down. There's got to be a way to reason with her - make her see what a beautiful life he could give her, especially once he assumes his rightful place at the head of the reaper table. But there's no making that argument until he's free from the place that marks him a criminal. "Look, we can talk about that once I get out of here, okay? Now I want to hear about you…how's school? You a doctor yet?"

Tara hesitates for a moment then flashes him the smile that never fails to spike his pulse. While she updates him on her life in San Diego, he notes the genuine delight on her beautiful face, the excitement in her voice. Could he really expect her to give that up for him? Although surely, she could be that happy at a school that's closer to him.

We belong together, he tells her silently. But SAMCRO's in his blood. The Club's his future…their future. And one day she'll believe that too.

* * *

For a good chunk of his life, there wasn't a person alive who Jax loved more than the take-no-shit, ass-kicking Queen of SAMCRO. Gemma Teller was much more than the woman who brought him into the world, more than the coolest mom a guy could have - she's always been his most stalwart champion and his rock, especially when they lost Tommy and JT and then when Mary Winston left town with Opie in tow. Since birth, no one's had his back or pushed him forward more aggressively, resolutely and lovingly than his mother.

But at this moment, he could've happily strangled her.

"What the hell were you thinking, Mom?" he snarls into the phone the second she accepts his collect call. After Tara's visit, he'd stormed to the jail's pay phone so fast that the guard had to scramble to keep up with him. "I don't fucking appreciate you trying to stir up shit between me and Tara."

"And hello to you," she drawls caustically. "I take it our favorite little college student paid you a visit. Didn't it go well?"

Gritting his teeth at the smugness in her voice, Jax forces himself not to rise to her baiting. It's none of his mother's goddamn business what happens between him and Tara. "Damn it, you…"

"Well if it wasn't a happy reunion, that's hardly my fault," she interrupts, huffing with feigned indignation. "I try to do you both a favor and this is the thanks I get."

Jax tightens his grip on the receiver, pretending it's Mommy Dearest's throat. "A favor?" he hisses. "You goddamn well _knew_ I didn't want anyone to tell Tara that I'm locked up in here. But you fucking ratted me out anyway."

"Like I said - I did you both a favor…She called, bitching at _me_ because you were in Ireland all by yourself and that no one knew how to reach you. Well I just had to ease that pretty little brain of hers - isn't that a good thing? Besides you didn't think you could keep your little bullshit secret from her forever, did you?"

"Listen Mom…"

"No Jackson, you listen - it took me less than five minutes with her to see that she doesn't belong with us. I knew it years ago when Opie brought her into our lives, and I know it for a goddamn fact now. A girl like that won't be happy in this life, and you'll both be miserable if you try to make her choose it. It's a distraction that you don't need, Jax. The Club needs to be your first and only priority…it's your future."

Jax closes his eyes as he struggles for patience; no way he can lose his shit here in front of the guards. Not when freedom's only a few weeks away. "I know my priorities, Mom. But _you_ need to know this: Tara is _not_ your concern," he growls through clenched teeth. "Just stay out of my shit."

Not that he thought for one goddamn second that she'd listen.

* * *

"So was that Opie's Old Lady that came to see you yesterday?" Otto dribbles a basketball - once, twice - before launching it towards the basket. And misses the rim by a mile.

"Christ, you suck man." Jax shakes his head then watches sourly as a freak-show skinhead from the opposing team retrieves the ball and easily nets the winning shot. Turning back to Otto, he scowls at the other man. "And she's NOT Opie's Old Lady."

Flashing a fuck-you smirk, Otto congratulates their opponents by flipping them the double bird then saunters away, forcing Jax to stalk after him. "Just making polite conversation." Otto shrugs. "Guess I was surprised to see her visiting _you_. I mean she's a hot piece and all, but I thought you'd want better than Opie's seconds."

Rage explodes inside him like a fucking a-bomb, and before he can stop himself, Jax swings a fist at his Brother's face. Fuck trying to be a model prisoner determined not to spend more time in jail than necessary - no one, no one talks shit about Tara like that and gets to live. He doesn't give a goddamn fuck how much time they add to his sentence, Otto's got to bleed.

But a veteran of a million fist fights, Otto ducks easily then pulls him in a headlock. Through the red mist coating his vision, Jax watches Otto assure a suspicious guard that they're just horsing around - smiling innocently until the guard walks away.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Otto hisses in his ear as Jax struggles to escape the other man's iron grip. "You can't pull that shit here or we'll both get a month in solitary…for starters. And I got shit I gotta do."

"Let. Go. of Me…" Jax finally breaks free then glares murderously at his "friend" as sanity slowly returns. "Tara's none of your fucking business," he snarls; it's as much a warning as a statement of fact. "You ever talk like that about her again, and I'll kill you."

"Whoa there, tough guy." Otto tosses his hands up in surrender. "Meant no insult. You know I like Tara, she's a good kid. And if you two are…uh…together, then good for you."

Jax eyes him skeptically as he rubs the back of his neck. To clear the air, he decides to talk about something else - although still another sore spot. "You never did tell me whether you got the orders from Clay. What do we need to do for the Cacuzzas?" He'd meant to ask Otto about it last night in the mess hall, but a few Members of the Grim Bastards decided to join them at the table so there was no chance to talk privately.

Before Otto can answer, a real fight breaks out in the yard between one of the asshole skinheads that beat him and Otto at basketball and some massive black dudes. Fuck, that won't end well. The other inmates surround the combatants in an orange mob - spurring them on with violent, profanity-laced shouts of encouragement and helpful suggestions for inflicting the most excruciating pain possible.

It's not until other skinheads decide to jump in to help their friends, who're getting the shit stomped out of them by the younger, deadlier Wilt-Fucking-Chamberlain clones, that the guards finally intervene. The incompetent pricks swarm in with guns drawn and order everyone to lie face-down on the ground while the medical staff checks on a pulverized, unconscious Nazi - who's probably fucked for life or mercifully dead, judging from his bashed in skull and the sickening angle of his neck.

In disgust, Jax turns his head; even Otto's ugly-ass face would be a preferable view. Except Otto's nowhere in sight. Nor was he at the mess hall for dinner that night or locked in his cell at lights out.

The next day, Jax learns from another inmate that the guards discovered the bloody body of Franco Tortomasi, the youngest son of one of Jimmy Sr's rivals - a small, yet razor sharp knife jammed into his throat. The dead man also had a St. James medal stuffed in his mouth; Jax knew enough about the Cacuzzas to recognize Jimmy Sr.'s MO of warning other families to stay off his turf. Shit, Otto must've seen an immediate opportunity to execute Clay's orders while the guards were occupied breaking up the yard fight.

But unfortunately for Otto, someone saw him leave the yard with Franco right before the race war broke out.

So when Jax was finally released after serving six long months in County, he walked out alone.

* * *

Needless to say, they canceled the welcome home party - with Otto still locked up and his freedom in jeopardy, no one felt like celebrating. Least of all Jax, who can't shake the clawing guilt that he should've done something to help Otto - although he's not sure what that could've been since his Brother had kept him in the dark about Clay's plan to help the Cacuzza's. Maybe he was afraid Jax would try to talk him out of it.

Growing up in the Club, violence's deep-rooted in Jax's DNA; hell, he's always game to beat the shit out of assholes who deserve it. But murder…Christ. He knows unleashing Mayhem's sometimes a necessary part of life with SAMCRO, and he'd gladly end anyone to protect his family, his Club…and Tara - shit, he'd fucking disembowel anyone who hurt her. However, executing some random punk as a favor for a business associate - that's fucked up.

"Bad news." Clay stalks out of the Chapel, where he'd been holed up on the phone for almost an hour, and motions to the Prospect to pour him a drink. Although there's no party, the remaining SAMCRO members opted to huddle inside the Clubhouse to await further news on Otto. "I talked to Unser - he got the update on Otto from his contact at County. Sanwa sheriffs investigating the case think they can link the Tortomasi hit back to Otto."

"How?" Piney demands. "I thought the snitch the guards talked to just saw Otto leave the yard with Tortomasi. That don't mean shit. And Otto wouldn't have been stupid enough to leave behind fingerprints on anything incriminating."

"Maybe the cops found a witness who saw Otto do it?" Tig interjects. "Some dumbshit looking for a deal and doesn't know how bad ratting could be to his health."

Clay grunts in frustration. "Hell, that'd be easier 'cause we could take care of some rat inside." He gulps downs his shot then signals for another. "But Unser's contact didn't know shit about what they had on Otto - just that they're fingering him for the hit and that the higher ups are being tight-lipped about everything."

"Or maybe they found the book," Bobby adds quietly, his accusing eyes fixed on Clay.

Jax wrinkles his brows in confusion; what the fuck does a book have to do with anything? "What are you talking about? What book?"

But before anyone could answer him, Gemma slams through the front door, wild fury in her dark eyes. "I can't fucking find Unser," she shrieks. "The goddamn sheriffs arrested Luann!"

"What?!" Clay thunders, hopping off his barstool to grab her arms while the other Members roar with disbelief. "When?"

Gemma thrusts him away angrily. "Just now. I was with her at their house when those bastards just barged in with warrants to arrest her and to search all their shit. The cops know, Clay. They know about the book."

At Clay's silence, Jax can't help but notice the other Club Members darting worried glances at each other. "What?" he snaps. Screw this secrecy bullshit - he just spent six months of his life in lock-up for SAMCRO, these assholes need to fucking respect his patch. "What is this goddamn book?"

"Cacuzza special," Bobby finally responds grimly. "Jimmy Sr. gave us some old book - with one of his custom blades and the St. James medal hidden inside. Clay gave it to Luann so she could bring it to Otto on visiting day. She told the guards that Otto's grandpa was dying and wanted him to have the book before the bank took his house and sold everything. Probably flashed some tit to seal the deal."

And that didn't sound batshit crazy? The guards at County may not be the sharpest tools in the shed, but they're not all fucking brain dead either. Lighting a cigarette, Jax scowls at Clay through the smoke, disgusted that SAMCRO's leader would take such a stupid risk. What if a guard with even a whit of competence had inspected that book? They would've locked up Luann on the spot. Although they've got her now.

Chibs shakes his head ruefully. "Otto probably had to take the book apart to find the knife. That's what the guards must've found. And since Luann brought it to him…"

"If that stupid bitch had just done what she was told, this wouldn't have happened," Gemma screeches, pacing madly across the floor. "It's her fault that Luann's in trouble."

Jax stares at his mom as confusion turns to realization then to rage. "Jesus Christ…You meant to drag _Tara_ into this shit?" His eyes narrow to ice blue slits. "The day she came to visit me in jail, Tara said you wanted her to come here first to pick up something…a present you wanted to give me. It was that fucking book…with a goddamn murder weapon inside!"

His hands ball into tight fists to keep from strangling his mother or pounding Clay into a bloody pulp. "That's why you told her I was in jail in the first place - wasn't it, Mom? Because you knew she'd want to come see me…so you could set her up."

"Well it's what you want, isn't it?" Gemma fires back, getting in his face. "You want her to be your Old Lady? Then she becomes part of this. We're all one big, happy family here, Jackson. Everyone does their part to help the Club, you know that."

"Tara wouldn't have gotten hurt," Clay rationalizes, as if trying to diffuse Jax's escalating temper. "No one would've suspected a college honor roll student of doing anything illegal. She brings her boyfriend a book - a perfectly normal gift for an inmate who spends so much time in the jail library. Nobody has to know that you'd give the book to Otto. Those dumbass guards would have never made that connection."

Bile churns in Jax's stomach at the thought of unsuspecting Tara bringing a mobster's knife into a jail where it'd be used to slice open a man's throat. Christ. "You guys knew about this?" He glares at Opie and Piney, two men who'd once been the closest thing to a family she had. "How could you let these fuckers plan to do that to her? If she'd been caught, the guards would've thrown her in jail, too."

Opie glances over at his dad, who remains stubbornly silent as he scowls at Clay and Gemma. "Clay's right," he finally mumbles, staring glumly at his shoes. "The guards never would've suspected her, Bro."

"Christ," Jax mutters, skewering his Mother and Brothers with a fury-soaked glare. Shaking his head, he stalks towards the door, convinced that if he stayed one more goddamn minute, he'd kill everyone in the room.

Through the roaring in his ears, he can hear his Gemma shouting his name again and again - louder and louder - ordering him to come back. But he ignores her, ignores all of them as he stomps the path to his bike. He's got to get the fuck away from here, from them.

* * *

As the Harley roars with life, Jax guns the engine and races out of the parking lot. It's not until he hits the open road with the rush of wind battering his face that he finally forces himself to relax. A vision of those sparkling green eyes engulfs his mind, replacing the furious red haze; the sound of her melodic voice drowns out the memory of the ugly confrontation back at the Clubhouse.

"… _You and me…I want that."_

" _I want us to be together, and I'll go anywhere with you…but not Charming, I can't live that life."_

Gritting his teeth, Jax punches up the Harley's speed. A flat tire, a fucking flat tire - that's what kept Tara from stopping at the Clubhouse to pick up Cacuzza's book. She'd been too anxious to see him, too worried about missing any part of visiting day that she blew off Gemma's request. Who the fuck knows - if not for that tiny quirk of fate, Tara could've been an accessory to a murder. Her bright future - the one she's been dreaming about her whole life, busting her ass every day to realize - destroyed forever. And for what?

Because she loves him.

" _I can't be Gemma or Luann…"_

Fuck, he doesn't want that either. She's nothing like any of the women of SAMCRO or anyone else he knows - it's part of the reason he loves her so much. And he wouldn't change anything about her. Swallowing hard, he realizes that the MC life would transform her into one of them eventually. His mother's right about that; everyone does their part to help the Club. As his Old Lady - his future Queen - one day Tara might be expected to help him kill someone like Luann helped Otto. He's not sure he can live with himself if he destroyed her like that.

" _You have to make choice."_


	14. Dancing 'Neath the Starry Sky

**DANCING 'NEATH THE STARRY SKY**

" _And where do you two monsters think you're going?"_

 _Crap. He and Opie had tried real hard to be ninja quiet so no neither of their moms would notice them sneaking out the back door; they'd made it all the way outside…only to run into the last person they wanted to see._

 _Summoning his best innocent face, Jax grins up at the big man scowling down at him. "Oh, hey Dad. Ope and I uh…we were uh…just looking for…uh…Well we heard a noise…and...we had to investigate." He pokes his best friend, who's just standing there like a wide-eyed idiot._

" _Oh yeah," Opie quickly snaps out of his scared-shitless trance. "We heard a noise."_

 _John Teller crosses his arms across his bad ass President's cut. "Is that so? Well I didn't hear anything, and I was out here."_

 _Jax glances briefly at Opie, then rolls his eyes when his friend shrugs helplessly. What a big freakin' help. "Well we thought you already left for the Clubhouse." Which, this time, was totally true._

 _The Winstons had come over for dinner before JT and Piney took off with the rest of the guys for a week-long run down to Tucson. When Piney mentioned that the guys from Oregon and Tacoma were meeting them at the Clubhouse to join the trip, Jax - salivating at the thought of seeing all those Harleys in one place - started plotting. After their dads took off, it'd been a no-brainer to sneak out of Jax's room, where they were supposed to be doing homework, while Gemma and Mary hung out in the kitchen and talked about women crap._

" _Well WE heard a noise." Jax stares pointedly at Opie, who nods vigorously. "So we came out here to…uh…protect the women."_

 _Opie barks with laughter, which he poorly camouflages with a cough then flushes red at JT's raised brow and Jax's scowl. "Sorry, must be getting the hiccups. I'll go inside and get some water." But then remains rooted to the spot when Jax spears him with a glare that promises death._

 _Looking back up at his dad, Jax smiles weakly. "You always say that when you and the guys leave town that we need to look after Mom and Mary." Ugh, he can feel his palms start to sweat as JT's penetrating eyes skewer him._

" _Well then you must've forgotten what I've always said about not going outside at night," JT snaps. Well actually, no - that's why he and Ope had sneaked outside_ _ **after**_ _their dads had left, but Jax wasn't dumb enough to point that out. "SAMCRO has enemies - some of them won't hesitate to go after our families. You boys need to tattoo that rule to your brains before I find another way to remind you."_

 _Jax's feigned smile twists into a stubborn scowl. Although he's for sure the most bad ass ten-year-old at school, his parents still treat him like a damn baby. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he channels his frustrations at a pebble at his feet - kicking the fucker across the yard. "We just wanted to ride over to the Clubhouse to see all the Harleys," he admits grudgingly. "Ope and I aren't little kids anymore, Dad…one day we're going to be SAMCRO, too."_

 _Maybe it was trick of the moonlight, but Jax could've sworn his old man's stony face might've softened a little. "I can see that." This time JT's voice sounds slightly less pissed as he darts a glance at Jax and Opie's "cuts" - jean jackets with the arms cut off with "President" written in magic marker on Jax's pocket and "V. President" on Opie's…just like their dads._

 _Sighing, JT runs a hand through his hair then stalks into the house - only to return moments later with a paper bag (which Jax later learned contained the meatloaf sandwiches that Gemma had made for some of the guys that JT had forgotten to take with him) and a ticked-off Gemma Teller in tow. Oh shit. Jax exchanges doomed looks with Opie; they'll probably be grounded forever now._

" _Your mom's going to drive you to the Clubhouse so you can watch in the parking lot, but if you set one foot outside of her car, I'm gonna cut it off, do you hear me?"_

 _Excitement soars through Jax like a rocket; he barely musters a mumbled thanks before slapping high-fives with Opie then racing to the garage where his mom's car waits to take them to what's going to be the coolest night ever. All his life he's wanted nothing more than a Harley and a cut with a patch from his dad's MC. But since it's taking freakin' forever to turn sixteen, he just jumps at any chance he can get to be around bikes and bikers and fantasize of the day he gets to join their ranks._

" _Make sure you pull up real close, Mom," he demands as they drive to Clubhouse. "Please," he adds with a beaming smile when she arches a brow at him through the rearview mirror. But his worry about not getting a good view vanishes instantly at the sight of all the Harleys swarming the TM parking lot._

 _Parking the car in her space by the office, his mom barks the dire warning to stay in the car then gets out with the bag of meatloaf sandwiches she took from JT. Jax briefly considers rebelling so he can go hang with the bikers, but then decides not to push his luck any further than he already has._

" _One day, Ope…" He presses his face up against the glass to watch his dad exchange hugs with some guys Jax remembers hailing from the Tacoma charter. "One day, that'll be you and me…the Club's gonna be ours."_

* * *

" _Congrats, Kid!" Tig forces him in a headlock then rubs at his hair while Jax struggles to break free. "Although one thing you got to remember: hazing the Prospect's a fact of life…but don't worry, you'll love every minute of it."_

 _Mustering all his strength, Jax manages to escape his Brother's iron grip and shoves the asshole away. "Fuck off, douchebag," he snaps…and then breaks out a wide grin at the sight of his Brothers surrounding them cheering raucously._

 _All his life he's wanted nothing more than a cut and a Harley and to take his rightful place next to his old man at the Reaper table. JT's crushing death last year left him both shattered and even more driven to patch in and be part of the MC his dad created…that way, they'll always be connected. All that endless waiting finally paid off today - this morning Gemma handed him the keys to a brand-new Harley, and just a few minutes ago Clay presented him with a cooler-than-shit black leather cut after SAMCRO unanimously voted him in as a new Prospect. So nothing, fucking nothing, could bring down his high - not Tig's bullshit nor Opie missing the festivities after promising to be there._

" _I'm so happy for you, baby." His mom pulls him into a tight hug as the others disperse to get drinks and grab a croweater or two. Then she pulls away and runs a lone finger across the Prospect patch on his cut. "We've been waiting a long time for this day." There's no doubt in his mind that she's as happy as he is - as Clay slid the cut over his shoulders, Gemma had beamed with satisfaction._

" _Thanks, Mom." He kisses her cheek. "I wish Dad could've been here, too." Pain and regret stab at him again until he forces them away. Today's a victory for all of them; he hopes his old man's watching them from somewhere, nodding in approval as Jax jump-starts the path to the gavel. "But I'll make him proud. Count on it."_

" _I'm sure you will, Kid." A gruff voice booms in from behind him. Turning, Jax's grin widens at the sight of Piney with a smiling Opie standing beside him. "Look at the riff-raff I found lurking around outside. Better late than never…"_

 _Fuck yeah, seeing Opie's another reason to celebrate. His best friend had promised not to miss Jax's Prospect party, but when he didn't show up today to hang with Jax while the Members held church to vote, Jax had started to doubt. Normally Opie's presence would've been a no-brainer - given the two of them had pretty much been Siamese twins since they were toddlers - but ever since Opie had to move to Rio Vista with his mom, he's not been around as much. And ever since he hooked up with his new girlfriend, Ope's been fucking MIA for weeks._

 _After everyone exchanges bear hugs, Jax and Opie head to the bar for drinks. "That's a good look for you." Opie nods approvingly at Jax's new cut. "How's the new bike?"_

" _You got to ask?" Jax smirks, pouring a shot of whiskey then sliding the glass towards his friend. "We can take it out tomorrow, and you can see for yourself."_

 _As Opie nods, Jax fills his own glass. "Next month it's gonna be you, Ope," Jax taps the Prospect patch on his new cut before clinking Ope's glass with his. "And then one day, the Club's gonna be ours…just like we always planned."_

 _Opie's smile dims, sending a warning chill down Jax's spine - now that he's all about this new pussy, it's as if Opie didn't give a shit about the Club anymore. "Yeah, well maybe…"_

"' _ **Maybe'**_ _?" Jax snorts then downs his shot to mask his simmering anger. "You hit your head on something on your way here? Why's that even be a question? We've been waiting for this our whole lives."_

 _Instead of answering, Opie guzzles down his drink. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he flashes Jax a fake-as-a-hell smile. "Why're we talking about my shit? This is your night...Got enjoy it now, tomorrow you'll start the slave labor."_

 _Yeah, Jax had thought he'd be fucking blissful all day - but not if he's about to lose his best friend and future VP to some honor roll piece of ass. Ignoring the questioning glances tossed their way, he motions for Ope to follow him into the chapel. "You're not thinking about backing out, are you?" he hisses, shutting the door behind them. "Our dads built SAMCRO. We owe it to them to keep it going."_

 _Opie's eyes widen - then to Jax's relief, he shakes his head. "No way, man. I want a Harley and a cut just like you…" His gaze drifts to the Reaper table. "But once I start Prospecting, I'll need to move back to Charming. Mom'll definitely kick me out once I get voted in."_

" _So?" Jax demands impatiently. "You knew that before Mary dragged your ass to that shithole town. You didn't want to live there anyway. What's the problem?"_

 _Shrugging, Opie leans against the wall. "I got no problem." He gazes down at the floor for a moment before shooting Jax a reproving look. "Except that I came all the way here to party, and I've had all of one drink before getting a lecture on commitment. Some fun host you are." He walks to the door and opens it, motioning for Jax to get back to the party with him._

 _Jax brushes his fingers across the gavel that'll one day be his. "It's gonna be great, Ope - you and me running this Club one day." He stops in the doorway and stares at his lifelong friend. "Don't forget your top priority."_

" _I haven't." Opie pokes at Jax's Prospect patch. "But maybe one day you'll find out it's possible to love something else."_

* * *

Holy fuck, he's not nervous; he's never been nervous a goddamn day in his life. But then Jax can't help but notice his hand shaking slightly as he raises it to knock on Tara's door - more than a little uneasy over the reception he's going to get since they've barely spoken since his release from County three weeks ago.

Three weeks ago, Jax walked out of jail a free man - not that you'd know it with the cops hovering around his ass like flies on shit. For days, he and his Brothers were grilled relentlessly by both the Sanwa Sheriff and the feds investigating organized crime - both sets of assholes believed SAMCRO executed a mob hit on behalf of the Cacuzzas. However, neither law enforcement arms could prove shit on him or anyone in the Club - that is, except Otto and Luann.

Unser learned from his contact at County that the Sheriff convinced the DA to file charges against both Otto and Luann, even though the guards never found the book containing the knife that she brought him on visiting day. Apparently, the fact the book went missing was damning enough - why else would Otto destroy a gift from his wife if not to hide evidence of his guilt? Between that and being the last person seen with the victim was apparently enough for the DA to secure an indictment. As for Luann…

Christ, his temper still burns at the idea that Clay and Gemma had planned to use Tara to deliver a goddamn murder weapon to County. The idiots thought that the guards would never follow the trail if Tara brought the book to Jax, who'd be instructed to give it to Otto. Clay finally admitted that it'd been his batshit stupid idea, born in a micro-second when Tara had called TM looking to find out how to contact Jax in Ireland. The fucking genius had overheard Gemma talking on the phone and immediately told her to ask Tara to come to TM before heading over to County. After hearing that fucked-up explanation, it'd taken every ounce of Jax's self-control not to draw his gun and blow a hole through his stepfather's goddamn head.

Instead, once again, Jax took off on his bike to clear his head and decide what he needed to do about his future, the Club, Tara…He'd finally realized that that a life with both SAMCRO and the girl he loved could never happen, not without eventually destroying her…just like Luann possibly going down for her loyalty to Otto and SAMCRO.

He'd been sitting at his dad's grave marker when clarity finally hit, and he knew what he needed to do. It wasn't going to be easy but it's what he wants more than anything for his future.

The door opens and his heart literally skips a fucking beat as it always does at the sight of her. Those unforgettable green eyes widen as she stares at him in open-mouth shock. "Jax?"

"Hey Babe," Jax flashes her a cocky grin, faking confidence he sure as hell doesn't feel. Dressed in a tank top and jeans, she's a feast for his hungry eyes, which eat up the sight of her like a starving man. "You gonna let me in?"

She steps aside to let him through the door but continues to gape in silence - not that he can blame her. Jax pulls off his baseball cap to reveal the short buzz cut that Floyd had almost been too afraid to give him. The old barber couldn't believe that Jax, who'd spent a lifetime avoiding regular haircuts like the plague, would voluntarily request a crop job that would make a hardcore marine proud.

"What are you doing here, Jax?" She eyes the duffel bag hanging off his shoulder. "On the phone you said that you understood why I didn't want SAMCRO in my life."

Jax had called her the day after his release to tell her that he'd gotten out but needed time to sort out the shit of Otto's arrest. He'd kept the conversation brief because, at the time, he didn't know what the fuck he was going to do. But he definitely knows now. Fuck yeah.

Dropping his bag on the floor, he grabs her hand and tugs her towards him. "When you visited me in jail, you said I needed to make a choice between a life with you or with my Club." Framing her face in his hands, he strokes her impossibly soft cheeks with his thumbs. "Well, I've made that choice." Jax brushes his lips against hers.

She braces her hands against his chest, resisting his attempts to pull her closer while those mossy green eyes scrutinize his face, searching for bullshit. "Do you really expect me to believe that you'd walk away from SAMCRO? From your father's legacy? You've always told me that all you've ever wanted was to be a part of your dad's Club."

"Well I want different things now. Tara, I…"

Shaking her head, she pulls away from him. "How do I know that you won't change your mind? That next week or next month or…tomorrow morning…you'll decide that you want to go back. I've told you that I'm not one of your precious croweaters that you can play with when you're in the mood then push aside when you're done."

Shit. Of all the women who've paraded in and out of his life, he's never had one challenge him more than the one he loves more than anything. Hell, score one for gender equality; Tara's called him out on his BS even more than any guy he's ever met - call him twisted, but it's as big a turn-on as if she'd starting stripping naked right in front of him. Well almost.

He groans silently as his semi hard-on, which sprang to life when she opened the door, swells to stone. It's been months since he's had sex and an eternity since that unforgettable night with her; it's everything he can do to control himself with her so close.

"While I was inside, all I could think about was you and me - what kind of life we'd have once I got out, how we'd be able to make it work with you in school and me in the Club. Then all this shit with Otto happened…and I just kept hearing what you said the day you came to see me in County - how you never wanted to visit me in jail again." He picks up her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles.

"I thought about all the Sons who've done long stretches in Stockton or Chino or some other hell hole…even my old man spent years away from me and my little brother. And now Otto's probably going to do hard time; hell, he may never get out…I don't want that to be me." He decides against telling her about Clay and Gemma's plot to include her in the Cacuzza's mob hit; she'd kick his ass out of her apartment and her life.

Tara runs her fingers through his cropped hair, electrifying every cell in his body. "Are you sure you're not feeling this way because you just got out?" Hope wars with doubt in those gorgeous green eyes, bolstering Jax's resolve. She's almost his again - for good, this time.

"I love you, Tara. More than anything. I want a life with you…But I can't have that if I wind up back in prison, which will happen if I stay in the Club. So I'm out." He steps away and, to her wide-eyed surprise, shrugs off his hoodie then turns his back to her and pulls off his t-shirt. "You got to take me back…I don't have anywhere else to go."

Jax hears her sharp intake of breath then nothing for what seems like an eternity - but just when he thinks the interminable silence might drive him insane, he feels her smooth hand touching him. Closing his eyes, he practically sags with relief, tension melting away as she runs her hands across the expanse of black ink now covering the reaper that once proudly adorned his back.

"Oh, Jax…" she whispers in wonder, her warm breath and soft lips tickling his skin, spiking his pulse into overdrive. "I love you, too."

Exhilaration soars through him at the sound of those words that mean absolutely everything. Turning, Jax pulls her into his arms and claims that plush pink mouth, just as he'd imagined doing every day and night for _years_. Christ, she's more intoxicating than any drug on this planet; no doubt he'll be a hopeless addict for the rest of his life. Unable to resist, he cups then squeezes the luscious ass that first hooked his attention and never let go.

Moaning softly, Tara wraps her arms around his neck then murmurs something against his lips. Unfortunately, he didn't hear shit, not with his brain cells short-circuiting from the heady sensation of her rubbing against his bulging dick. "Huh?"

A small smile teases those pink lips as she slides a hand down to stroke his chest, drawing a grunt of pleasure to rumble from his throat. "Did you ride all the way here today?"

Still somewhat dazed, he blinks at her then nods dumbly. "Yeah, why?"

"Well if you're hungry I could make you a sandwich or…" Her gaze drifts down to watch her hand glide down his abs to rest right above his fly. "I was about to take a shower - if you're feeling a little dirty, you can join me…"

Hell-fucking-yeah! A huge grin spreads across his face before he hoists the girl he'll love forever over his shoulder then sprints to the bathroom, her musical giggles ringing through the air.

* * *

" _Are you sure about this, Brother?" Opie shakes his head in disbelief as they walk into the Clubhouse for the church. "All we've ever wanted was this Club...we've been talking about it - planning for it - since we were kids. I still don't get why you want to walk away."_

 _In his lifetime, Jax's had to endure a lot of rough shit - suffering through the tragic deaths of his little brother and then his dad, watching his mom marry his dad's friend so soon after JT's funeral, crushing Tara so cruelly in a dipshit attempt to protect Opie - but walking away from SAMCRO had to be the hardest thing he's ever done._

 _After a sleepless night spent next to his father's grave stone, he'd ridden straight to Opie's house to tell his best friend and his dad's best friend about the decision he'd made. That bombshell had stunned Opie speechless while Piney had sighed resignedly then promised to back whatever Jax wanted._

 _Hunting down Clay at TM had been his next move; the Biker King would not have been amused if he heard about Jax's desire to get out from someone else. But despite his shock, Clay had also taken Jax's choice surprisingly well; although he'd warned Jax that the Club vote had to be unanimous, the SAMCRO President promised he would cast his vote last. "If the others are good with letting you out, then I won't stand in the way. And_ _ **IF**_ _they let you walk…there'll be no recourse."_

 _Although grateful for Clay's apparent support, Jax hadn't been fooled for a fucking minute - he knew Clay didn't think the others would vote unanimously to let him out. Especially Tig, who lived and breathed SAMCRO - and wouldn't take a shit without Clay's green light. If Clay told him to vote no, then that psycho wouldn't hesitate to fuck up Jax's life._

 _But if Clay secretly planned to undermine him, step-daddy would be badly disappointed. Jax knew his Brothers very well, what made them tick and what he needed to say to each of them to make the vote go his way._

" _Christ, what did your mom do when you told her?" Opie practically shudders with horror at the idea of Gemma Teller-Morrow on a rampage. "She's been grooming you for the gavel since birth."_

 _No surprise, Gemma had gone completely apeshit - furiously railing at him for throwing away everything that they worked for, betraying his father's legacy and destroying their family. Jax'd stoically withstood her rage until she started in on Tara, threatening to kill the bitch who would wreck his future. It'd taken all his self-control to rein in his temper when he coldly told her that he'd fucking end anyone - absolutely anyone - who hurt Tara. Then he walked out of his childhood home for the last time._

" _She'll be fine." Lighting a cigarette, Jax peers at Opie through the smoke. "You're the guy who once told me it's possible to love something else…Well now I believe you." At the indecision on Opie's face, Jax aims for his best friend's one weak spot. "And if you had to choose between SAMCRO and Donna, you'd be doing this too."_

 _Sighing heavily, Opie finally nods then eyes him grimly. "You know what happens if you get out…You're excommunicated. That means you give up your cut, your ink and all contact with any of us…Shit." He storms away towards the chapel, leaving Jax to watch him go. Fuck, that'll be the worst: never again seeing these men who he's known most of his life, who he loves like family - but it's not enough to turn him from the brighter future that beckons._

* * *

" _Yea."_

" _If you're sure this is what you want then…Aye."_

"… _Yea."_

" _Yea."_

" _Yes."_

" _Yea"_

 _Unanimous except for one more vote - Clay stares hard at him for a long moment before slowly raising his hand then banging the gavel. Judging from the scowl on his face, he hadn't expected the vote to fall so easily in Jax's favor; no doubt the man's dreading going home to Gemma with the vote results._

 _Rising, Jax removes his cut - painfully aware of the seven pairs of eyes glued to his every movement - and sets it on the table. "I'll go to the shop tomorrow, black out my ink…You guys can watch them do it or I can send you a picture."_

 _When met with stony silence, Jax walks away from the table and yanks open the door - but then spins around for one last look at the Club he'd always wanted, the Brotherhood he'd always craved. "Take care of yourselves, please…I love you all." Turning, he walks out the door and out of the SAMCRO Clubhouse for good._

* * *

"Are you awake, Baby?"

Through a sleepy fog, he can hear her whispering in his ear and smiles to himself; after months - _no years_ \- of hearing her voice in his dreams, this time Jax knows it's all real. He'd played the gamble of his life - securing a clean break from the Club, then coming here to face an uncertain reception - but it'd all paid off in mind-blowing fashion last night. His smile widens at the memories of insanely hot shower sex, followed by hours of vigorously carnal fucking where he staked his claim on the love of his life again and again and again.

Reaching for her, Jax frowns at the feel of silky fabric instead of soft skin and cracks open his lids. From the dim light seeping through the window, he can see her hovering over him - those pink lips quirking with humor as he eyes her bathrobe with distaste. She quickly soothes his displeasure by skimming his bristly cheek with her thumb then brushing her mouth against his.

"Come back to bed, Babe," he cajoles, slipping his fingers under her robe to stroke her bare thigh. "It's still early."

Even in the dim pre-dawn light, he can see those green eyes twinkling at him. "Actually, it's the perfect time." She follows up that cryptic comment by straightening then tossing his boxers at him. "Come with me," she steps away from the bed then dangles a condom between her fingers. "I'll make it worth your while…"

Hot damn…with a promise like that, she didn't need to ask twice. He practically jumps out of bed then nearly falls on his ass trying to pull on his boxers, drawing amused giggles from her. Not that he gives a shit, especially when she wraps her arms around him and presses her lips to his chest.

"Where are we going?" Jax runs his fingers through her glossy dark hair then claims her mouth for a hungry kiss while his rock-hard dick swells impatiently against her belly, demanding to be satisfied right-fucking-now.

Showing no mercy to him and his rampant hard-on, she backs away then grabs his hand to tug him out the door with her. "Let's go for a swim."

Hell yeah, Jax grins as his dick twitches with interest at the idea of more water sex - just a few hours ago, he'd pressed her against the shower wall, wrapped those long legs around his waist then rammed his cock inside of her over and over as hot water pelted them. Even when the water cooled, it didn't douse the heat between them; he'd simply shut off the tap then dropped to his knees and buried his face between her slick thighs. His useless brain tries to remember if he saw a pool or any kind of water in the backyard, but it's impossible to focus on anything other than Tara sashaying ahead of him and that luscious ass barely covered by her short robe.

As Jax follows her down the stairs and over to Nero's house, his pulse starts hammering excitedly as the porch comes into view and he realizes that he'd misheard her about swimming; his sweet girl wants to go for a swing. He smacks himself in a silent high-five, basking in the revelation that she'd shared the same erotic vision of the two of them on that porch swing. However, a bit of sanity kicks in before he starts drooling.

"Wait…" He tugs at her hand as she climbs up the porch step. "What about Nero and his family?" Despite his almost desperate need to fuck her on that swing, he doesn't want an audience - especially not Tara's ex-biker landlord along with his grouchy old mother and young son.

Tara raises an eyebrow, as if surprised at his hesitation. "The Padillas are in Mexico for Rosa's birthday." She smirks as he leaps up the porch steps to join her then points to the swing. "Have a seat."

Christ, it's like he's a fourteen-year-old virgin again - although he's never been like this with anyone but her - practically panting with eagerness when she drops to her knees and pulls down the front of his boxers to reveal his straining erection. A strangled moan escapes his lips when she suckles the wet tip of his bobbing cock while her soft hand strokes him then fondles his balls. "Oh fuck…Tara, please…"

As she tongues his slit, Jax sucks in his breath and closes his eyes - trying like hell to hang on to his tattered self-control. Goddamn it, he's not some fucking kid who'd blow his load over preliminaries - at least he never used to be until he fell for a certain gorgeous green-eyed witch, who could rouse him hotter and harder than he ever thought possible. Oh shit - if she sucks on his balls like she did last night, he's going to erupt…

But as if sensing how close she's brought him to the brink, Tara releases him and tears open the condom wrapper. Through hooded eyes, Jax watches her roll it on him, gripping the bench with shaking hands - then leans back when she joins him on the swing, straddling his legs so that her juicy pussy hovers mere inches from his straining cock.

"That first day you came here - I saw you on this swing, waiting for me." Her fingers tweak his goatee while her other hand slips between them to untie her robe. "Even though I was still so mad at you…" She brushes her lips against his. "More than anything, I wanted to fuck you on this swing…" Then she shrugs the robe off her shoulders.

Even though he just spent last night reveling in every inch of her naked body, Jax can't help but gawk at her like it's the first time. At the sight of those succulent tits with pert pink nipples, his few functioning brain cells disintegrate while his dick swells even harder and thicker than ever before. He barely manages to nod then hisses with pleasure when she grips his cock then slowly, slowly impales herself to the hilt.

Snapping out of his daze, Jax fills his hands with those lush breasts then thoroughly suckles each thick tip - smirking to himself in satisfaction when they tighten into hard buds against his tongue and Tara starts chanting his name, squeezing his cock with her pulsing pussy muscles. His feet back up then lift as the swing pitches forward, driving his dick deeper inside of her.

"Oh god, Jax…" Her long, inky lashes flutter shut as she slides up and down his rigid dick, sparking that sensual rhythm that belongs to just the two of them - one they re-discovered again and again last night. However, this time there's a hot beguiling friction from the rocking porch swing that's got him gritting his teeth and curling his toes.

His tongue lashes each nipple one more time before he releases her breasts and cups her face, his thumbs caressing her flushed cheeks. "God I love you, Tara," Jax rasps before devouring her mouth. Christ he's so goddamn fucking close, and he wants to be relishing the taste of her when she comes.

Vaguely aware of the swing creaking noisily as it rocks back and forth, of their loud throaty moans, of her plump breasts and stiff nipples pressed tightly against his sweaty chest - Jax grips her undulating hips then flexes his ass, thrusting his exploding cock within her convulsing pussy - over and over and over - pumping wildly as orgasm continues to slam into him with the force of a goddamn A-bomb.

 _Holy_

 _Fucking_

 _Shit_

Completely spent, Jax slumps forward, burying his face against her neck - his entire body still buzzing with intense pleasure as Tara continues to milk his throbbing dick with her slick inner muscles.

"I love you too, Baby," she sighs in his ear; her hands sliding up and down his slick back, over the blackened area that was once the thing he wanted most in the world. Until he met her.

Hugging her tighter against him, Jax smiles.

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading everyone! And thanks for your patience with my less-than-awesome update frequency. I did enjoy writing this story even though I lost motivation for a while. But re-watching S1 & S2 helped bring me back to the J/T fold so now I'm thinking of an Epilogue to this story.

Also, even though I don't like to leave stories unfinished, I may not immediately return to writing "Make the Season Bright" and re-focus on the S7 AU in Tara's POV that I'd been planning for a while. We'll see.


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

" _But why had he always felt so strongly the magnetic pull of home, why had he thought so much about it and remembered it with such blazing accuracy, if it did not matter, and if this little town, and the immortal hills around it, was not the only home he had on earth? He did not know. All that he knew was that the years flow by like water, and that one day men come home again."*_

As a fan of the book, Jax's read that passage more than a few times - the first time as a high school kid in Charming, the last time as a grown man hundreds of miles away in San Diego - and while he could admire and appreciate the writing, the passage had never really affected him before. But now, riding his bike on a Northern California freeway, speeding towards Sacramento - only a few exits away from the town he'd once called home - the recollection of those words blast through his brain with such force they steal his breath.

It's been fifteen years - a decade and a half - since he dropped his cut on the reaper table, blacked out his ink then rode out of Charming for good. Fifteen years since he said goodbye to his mother, his Brothers and the legacy that'd been mapped out for him since birth. Yeah, he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss the people he left behind, that he didn't sometimes wonder what would've happened if he'd never left – but not once had he ever been tempted to go back, not even for a second.

" _You have to make a choice."_ Tara had tossed that ultimatum at him from the visitor's side of the jailhouse glass, forcing him to make the toughest decision of his life. He chose her, and the universe rewarded him generously for it: a family he loves more than anything, an unexpected yet thriving livelihood and every day spent without the fear of dying bloody or getting locked up in prison for life.

He chose her and in return, she's given him a beautiful life.

Yet lately he's been plagued with a strange restlessness that's been more than a little unsettling. Suddenly, it's as if his perfect world's not quite so perfect, and he's not sure how to fix what's bothering him.

It all started last week while chauffeuring a pack of noisy kindergarteners and an over-stimulated toddler to a kiddie soccer game, followed by an excruciating post-game celebration hosted by the parents of the team's goalie. Not that he didn't enjoy the time with his sons - hell no, he adores his boys and relishes every second with them; with Tara away at a conference, he'd been more than capable of single-parenting for a few days. No, it hadn't been the little boys that'd sent unease burrowing in his brain, but the big ones.

First, it'd been Steve, father of Abel's new best friend who'd carpooled to the game with them then, then during the game and the post-game party, there'd been Dylan and Brandon and another half-dozen cashmere-sweater-wearing, plastic fuckers who yammered non-stop about investments, HOA's, country club golf and other mind-numbing shit. Since Abel started his new private school, they've been pulled into a world more upscale and privileged than Jax'd ever known before…a world he doesn't belong to or even wants to join.

Yeah, Tara's a pediatric surgeon and he's got a pretty good job so they're definitely better off than their days as cash-strapped kids who shared a one room apartment above a garage. But since Tara's practice services low income patients and he works for a public university, they weren't rich by any means - just comfortable enough to raise their kids with more security than either of them had growing up. But was life so comfortable now that he's forgotten who he was?

Once he used to be a total bad ass, commanding both fear and respect everywhere he went. Was he destined to turn into one of those white-collar puppets checking for Wall Street updates on his Smartphone, trading in his flannel shirts and hoodies for silk suits and cable knit cardigans, replacing his Harley with a Tesla? Fucking Christ.

If listening to those pompous clowns wasn't bad enough, hanging with them broke open the floodgates to memories of another time, of another group of men connected by the life they loved - vivid memories his old life that he'd pretty much locked away since leaving to be with Tara. Over the years, his past would creep in now and then - sometimes Tara would mention Piney or something would remind him of his parents or Opie or Bobby or even Tig - but since that chapter in his life was over, the flashbacks had always been brief. Until now.

Now Jax can't stop thinking of them: how they're doing, if they're still running guns - fuck, if they're even all still alive. And he wonders if they ever think of him. Shit, they would've laughed their asses off if they saw him at that party surrounded by what looked like the preening cast of a fucking Polo for (middle-aged) Men magazine ad.

It's not as if he doesn't have any post-SAMCRO friends - he's been tight with Nero and a couple of guys from the garage for years; besides Tara, Nero's been his best friend since Jax first showed up in San Diego looking for her. Once Jax moved in with Tara, Nero had been more than just a landlord - offering Jax a job at his garage then giving him flexible hours once Jax decided to go back to school. And even when Jax's career trajectory meant leaving Nero's garage, they stayed close.

Unfortunately, in recent months he hasn't been able to spend much time with Nero or join in the Harley rides with the guys at the garage. His days had become a blur of work and meetings, of the boys' school and day care, of play dates and birthday parties, of family meals and reading bed time stories. Not that he's ever minded, nothing matters more to him than Tara and their sons. But since that shitty afternoon with those vacuous douchebags, he's had a bug up his ass over confronting what might be his future self.

So when this work trip to Sacramento got scheduled, Jax opted for the eight-hour ride on his Harley than the quick flight. He needed some time alone to think. When he told her, Tara had raised a brow since he hated spending time away from her and the boys - but knowing him better than anyone, she'd instantly understood his need for space and simply nodded.

At the thought of his wife, his shoulders relax and a slow smile spreads across his face.

" _Wow, we did it…" Her dazzling smile had to be the second happiest in the universe - second only to his._

"…' _bout time," he grumbles, trying to scowl at her but fails miserably as euphoria pumps through every cell in his body; nothing could wipe the huge shit-eating grin off his face. Hauling her against him, he brushes his lips against hers before lifting her hand to press a kiss to the warm gold band he'd slid on her finger just moments before. "So how does it feel…_ _ **wife**_ _?"_

 _The word glides off his tongue like honey, a burst of potent sweetness that melts his insides to mush - and then swamps him under a big fucking wave of relief. When he showed up on her doorstep in San Diego a year ago, he fully expected that they'd get married right away. He loved her, she loved him; he'd walked away from the MC life she feared to live a normal life with her - what could possibly deny him what he's wanted since pretty much the day they met? But despite eagerly welcoming him to move in with her and constantly telling him that they belong together, she hit the brakes at tying the proverbial knot._

 _At first, it'd pissed him off that she didn't want to elope to Vegas with him during their early days in San Diego, even though she'd assured him that they'd get married one day - that there wasn't any rush, they had their whole lives ahead of them. It didn't take him long to realize that her hesitation bred from her own insecurity rather than any uncertainty about spending forever with him - the scars of what happened with Opie and Donna still festered. Not that she still carried a torch for her ex-boyfriend - she was quick to assure him - but Tara knew better than most that feelings could change over time; she'd lost her father's love when her mother died and then Opie's when he fell for Donna._

 _But Jax knew for damn sure his feelings for her would never change; shit he had a back covered in black ink to prove he loved her more than anything in the world, a sentiment that she echoed back at him often enough to keep him happy - that, and a whole lot of steamy hot, naked sex._

 _It was right after a quick, yet scorchingly intense fuck in a library study room when_ _ **she**_ _popped the question; while he desperately tried to gather his scrambled brain cells and calm his ragged breathing, the love of his life slipped on her panties then casually suggested they take a trip this weekend to so he could make an honest woman of her._

 _And he couldn't say "Fuck, yeah" fast enough…Which is how he wound up in this rustic little chapel in Laughlin, Nevada married to the most beautiful girl in the universe._

 _Those gorgeous green eyes twinkle up at him as she tweaks his goatee with her fingers. "I feel like the luckiest woman ever," she purrs, her rosy lips curving impishly. "Although I'd like to get luckier…"_

Envisioning his wife's naughty little smile - the one that's turned him into a panting, horny teenage boy for nearly two decades - his grin broadens. She'd flashed that smile at him just a few hours ago when she'd dragged his bare ass from their bed for another round of crack-of-dawn fucking on their porch swing. The swing had been a house-warming gift from Nero, who'd wryly suggested they install it in the backyard to avoid putting on a show for the neighbors or security cameras. They'd both flushed crimson at the time, but no level of embarrassment or fear of voyeurism could stop them from regularly watching the sun rise and set in naked, orgasmic bliss.

Jax's lips twist into a rueful smirk as his dick swells against his fly. Even several hundred miles away, Tara Knowles-Teller can still fire him up like no one else ever.

His eye catches the sign marking the freeway junction exit that would lead to Charming - how many times had he made that turn? A thousand? A million? It'd been such a knee-jerk reflex since the day his dad taught him how to ride. But since his move to San Diego, he'd pretty much avoided this route - most of his trips to Northern Cal had been to San Francisco, which was another freeway entirely. And he usually had Tara riding behind him.

Tara…meeting her had to be the best thing that ever happened to him. They've had a few bumpy moments here and there but, on the most part, life's been pretty fucking perfect over the past fifteen years. And despite his fucked-up little identity crisis, he wouldn't change a damn thing.

Gunning his engine, he speeds past the exit to Charming towards his original destination. The sooner he can get there and finish his business, the sooner he can get back to his family.

* * *

"I can't believe what I'm fucking seeing…"

Looking up towards the all-too-familiar voice, Jax nearly chokes on the water he'd been drinking at the sight of the towering mountain of scruffy hair, tattoos and leather striding towards him. Christ, he could say the same thing. After feeling such a strong pull of home for the first time during yesterday's ride, it's more than a little jarring to see the person he missed the most standing just a few feet away.

Somehow he manages to recover from his shock and sign the final few books, smiling weakly as he returns them to the eager students before rising to face the man who had once been his brother in every way but blood.

"I can clean up here, Dr. Teller," the young bookstore employee pipes up behind him, flushing pink when he turns to thank her. Tara always teased him about his effect on co-eds, that they'd be mooning over him even when he's a 90-year-old geezer getting wheeled around by their great-grandkids.

"Dr. Teller?" Eyebrows raised, Opie nods at the promotional poster of Jax hard at work on his laptop (courtesy of Tara's phone photography skills). "You got to be shitting me."

Scratching his short beard, Jax shrugs a bit self-consciously. When they were kids, he and Opie always used to make fun of the nerdy egg-heads at school; now he's pretty much sitting on top of nerdy egg-head mountain. "Guess school didn't suck as much as I thought," he admits. "Tara talked me into applying; when I got in, I just kept going to class…wound up with a PhD."

Shaking his head in apparent disbelief, Ope just stares at him. "Well you look the same - except for that short hair - and sound the same, but…" He glances around the bookstore at the book signing promo posters on the walls and the stack of hardbacks on the table with Jax's face plastered on the back cover. "…the rest of this…holy shit."

 _You look the same…_ Funny, Jax could echo that about his old friend, dressed in old baggy black jeans, black hoodie and all-too-familiar black skullcap. Not that he's one to talk with his same old wardrobe of jeans, t-shirts, flannel shirts, motorcycle gloves and white sneakers. Despite the huge changes in his life, he's pretty much dressed the same - encouraged unconditionally by his better half, who loves her scruffy biker boy.

Jax steps closer for a better look at the man he's known pretty much since birth. Okay, there's definitely some changes; after all, it's been fifteen years. They're both more bulked up than their teenage selves - Ope, no doubt from the physically active MC life, and Jax from daily visits to his boxing gym (which he'd taken up as a distraction when he quit smoking years ago) and keeping up with his active family. But while Jax now buzzes his hair short, Opie's has grown way longer than it'd been when Jax left Charming. And there's now the Vice President patch prominently adorning his cut.

But the most striking change had to be his friend's eyes. Gone was the friendly, affable brown gaze glinting with trust and humor that Jax remembered - replaced by the ruthlessly cold, guarded expression of a man who's seen and done too many unspeakable things. The look of Clay and Tig and the other patched men of SAMCRO.

"Well it looks like I'm not the only one hanging out in college bookstores," Jax drawls, trying to discern how happy his former best friend might feel about this surprise reunion. They hadn't parted on bad terms - but not exactly good either. "What're you doing in here? SAMCRO now dealing text books?"

Opie's stony expression wavers as his lips twitch. "Looking at some of the price tags these fuckers are charging, that might not be such a bad idea." His eyes drift from the book shelves back to Jax - zeroing in on the Jax's gold wedding band. "How's Tara? You didn't fuck up your chance with her, did you? Fifteen years is a long time to deal with your bullshit."

Chuckling, Jax shakes his head. "We're good..." Although he wonders what she'd think of him running into Opie like this. He can't imagine she'd be thrilled with him having any SAMCRO contact; even after all these years, he knows the Club still scares her. With that in mind, he should say a quick goodbye and get the hell out of there, but…

 _Rubbing his temple, he considers hurling his laptop across the room then stomping it into fucking dust. The goddamn piece of shit can't seem to hold a battery charge anymore and he's sure he forgot to save the latest changes to his work. Fuck, fuck, fuck…And the screaming baby in the next room doesn't help the pounding in his head._

" _Do you ever regret coming here? Leaving your mother…Charming…SAMCRO…for all this chaos?"_

 _His anger vanishes instantly when he spots her standing in the doorway. Even after all these years together, she still sends his heart soaring into overdrive so that he forgets about anything and everything but her._

 _Rising out of his chair, he savors the sight of his wife holding their two-year-old son. He enfolds them into his arms, stroking her velvety soft cheek with his fingers before pressing a kiss to their baby boy's silky blond head._

 _After years of being so careful about not starting a family until ready, they'd gambled on fate with an impulsive bareback fuck at the beach and wound up with the prize nine months later. Abel had been born during Tara's second year of residency and Jax's third year of grad school - not exactly perfect timing given their crazy schedules and strained finances. He'd expected to be much more freaked out by the whole thing, but instead found himself enthralled by her pregnancy and excited by fatherhood._

 _Gazing into Abel's bright blue eyes - so like his own - Jax feels his heart swell to near bursting. "No, Babe," he brushes his lips across Tara's forehead as his hand drifts to caress her newly expanding belly. "I don't regret a thing. If anything, I wish I would've left with you."_

 _Her pink lips curve into a soft smile. "But you did leave, and you're here now. That's all that matters."_

"There's a bar across the street." Opie gestures towards the door. "I could use a drink...care to join me?"

Jax rubs a thumb across his wedding ring as he eyes his old friend. There's a reason all this shit's happening right now; even his rational, science-loving Tara believed in serendipity…she'd want him to see how this all played out. "Yeah, that sounds good."

* * *

While writing one of his books, Jax spent some time researching muscle memory - how people can perform activities they haven't done in years, whether it's riding a bike or playing a musical instrument or even martial arts, because their bodies remember the past practice.

Sitting with Opie in the near-empty dive bar, Jax realizes those same motor responses could apply to long lost friendships. After ordering drinks and some bar food, Opie asked him if he still rode and suddenly they were young Jax and Opie again rattling on about Harleys - all the bikes they rode, repaired and aspired to own - with details of everyday life sprinkled in.

While they polished off a pitcher of beer and a jumbo platter of wings, Jax gushed about Tara - his brilliant neo-natal surgeon saving babies every day, their darling little boys - five-year-old Abel and three-year-old Thomas, and the third baby due in three months (after two sons who look like him, Jax's really hoping for a girl who's a mirror image of her gorgeous mother).

In turn, Opie told him about being married to Donna for 14 years and their two kids - including a 13-year-old who needed him to drop her off at junior theatre camp at Sacramento State, which was why Opie was on campus when he saw the posters for Jax's book signing.

"I still can't believe you fucking write books for a living," Shaking his head, Opie takes a drag of his cigarette. "But then I guess I shouldn't be surprised…you and your old man couldn't stop reading them."

Well Jax certainly hadn't planned on becoming a professional writer; he'd been jotting shit down - thoughts, ideas - since he was a kid but never thought about doing more than scribbling in his notebooks. Tara had been the one to take note of his work - constantly encouraging him until one day he found himself enrolled in a community college writing class, which eventually set him on the path to a bachelor's degree then a graduate degree, to publishing his first story and then another and another. Although not a New York Times best-selling author or anything like that, he's happy that his short stories and novels have been regularly added to college reading curriculums and lists of top literary reads.

But as happy as he's been over his success as an author, Jax's been most proud of his not-as-public accomplishments. He's parlayed his literary success and academic clout to work with state officials in overhauling and improving the libraries in juvenile detention centers all over the state; the main reason he's in Sacramento now was to finalize funding for another two years. The book signing had been a favor to the Dean at Sac State, who worked with him to secure that funding.

Yep, Jax Teller, literary bad ass. Ope would lose his fucking shit laughing over that.

"So everyone else is good?" No longer able to resist asking, Jax stares at Opie expectantly. Just because he'd chosen a different life, chosen to walk away and be excommunicated didn't mean he ever stopped caring.

Opie downs the rest of his beer; wiping his mouth on his sleeve (just like the old days), he eyes Jax thoughtfully as if trying to decide how much to divulge - part of SAMCRO's code is that you don't say shit about the Club to anyone on the outside. Like Jax. Shrugging, Opie lights another cigarette. "All good."

Although unsatisfied with the answer, Jax opts for a little safer territory. "How's my Mom?" At Abel's soccer game, it hadn't been just the plastic Ken doll dads that set his brain on edge. Along with the parents and siblings, there'd been a few happy grandparents cheering excitedly for their favorite little players. It'd made him think about Gemma, just like the day Abel was born and then again when they welcomed Thomas to the family - how she'd love to meet her grandsons, how his boys might like to know they had grandparents (if you counted Clay) just like the other kids. And soon there'll be another baby…

"Same as always." A fond smile tugs at Opie's lips; Gemma's always been more of a mother to him than his own. "Bet she'd love to know she's got grandkids," he echoes Jax's conflicted thoughts. "She and Clay have been taking care of Lowell's kid while the idiot's in rehab again."

Despite his somewhat dysfunctional upbringing, Gemma had been a good mom - they may not have seen eye to eye on everything, but Jax knew she loved him. He's happy that she's found an outlet for her maternal instincts, such as they were.

Opie's phone rings, ushering in the outside world. Frowning as he glances at the number on the screen, Opie hops out of the booth to take the call outside. Jax knows that he can't talk Club business in front of an outsider - especially an excommunicated outsider. Waiting for Opie to finish his call, Jax wonders how crazy it would be if he rode back to Charming with his old friend. Just to say hi to the guys and Gemma. Totally fucking crazy and Tara would absolutely flip, but…

"Sorry, I gotta go." Whatever the caller had to say, it must've been some seriously bad shit news given Opie's stricken face leeched of all color except for red-rimmed eyes; his big hands shake as he grabs his sweatshirt and cut then bolts towards the door.

Leaping up, Jax throws a wad of cash on the table and sprints after him. "Ope!" he calls out repeatedly, only to be ignored each time. Undeterred, Jax follows him to a campus parking lot and manages to step in front of him before Opie can get on his bike. "What the hell's wrong?"

For a split second, it looks like his old friend might slug him given his thunderous expression and raised fist; instead, Opie's shoulders slump as he swipes at his eyes. "It's Donna…she's been shot. They're taking her to St. Thomas."

"Holy shit, I'm so sorry Ope." Helplessly, Jax watches the big man struggle with his composure. "Maybe you shouldn't ride alone; I can go with you..."

"No." Opie barks, shaking his head. "You need to stay away from that shit, Jax. For your own good." Sidestepping Jax, he heads for his bike. "You have a great life now…hang on it. Hang on to Tara…" He closes his eyes briefly then straps on his helmet.

Staring at his old friend, Jax swallows hard as a heart-stopping realization stabs at him, freezing the blood in his veins - had he made a different choice, had Tara made a different choice - it could've been him getting the devastating news that Tara had been gunned down and was fighting for her life. A red mist coats his vision; he'd fucking kill everyone in the whole goddamn world if anything happened to her.

Forcing himself to snap out of his painful haze, Jax stalks towards Opie and pulls the big man into a bear hug. Fuck SAMCRO, Opie will always be his brother. "She'll be okay, Ope. No way the Donna I knew would ever let go of you." He thumps Opie's back reassuringly before pulling away. Reaching into pocket, he fishes out one of his business cards that he brought on this trip and extends it to Opie. "Fuck rules, Bro. If you need anything, call me. Any time."

Opie hesitates for a moment before accepting the card. Tucking it into his pocket, he nods at Jax. "Thanks. Take care of our girl." He smirks ruefully before gunning his engine and riding away.

* * *

"What's wrong, Baby?" Those gorgeous green eyes darken with concern as she gazes up at him, her soft fingers stroking his cheek.

After saying goodbye to Opie, Jax had quickly checked out of his hotel and rode hell for leather back to San Diego, back to his family. It'd been nearly midnight when he got home, but thankfully Tara had stayed up to wait for him. He'd dropped all his shit and rushed over to her without bothering to shut the front door. Plucking her off the couch, he'd wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could (given her condition) and devoured that luscious pink mouth like a starving man.

Although that's exactly how he always greeted her after any absence, his ever-astute Tara could always tell when something's off with him. Gazing down at the beautiful girl he's loved since he was sixteen years old, Jax lifts her hand and kisses her wedding ring. "I'm good," he replies. And it's the truth - for the most part. "But I do need to tell you something…"

Unwilling to let get go of her for a second, Jax tugs her along with him to lock the front door then up the stairs to their bedroom. Plopping down on the chaise, he pulls her on to his lap and buries his face in her dark hair. Remembering Donna and Opie, he squeezes her tight. "I love you so much, Tara. You have to know that…"

"I do know that, Jax. I love you, too." She rests her forehead against his. "Tell me…"

And so he spills his fucking guts to her - divulging his fear of losing himself, of going soft and turning into a goddamn Steve-Brandon-Dylan clone…about missing his old family - blood and Brothers…and about running into Opie in Sacramento.

Tara's silent while he unravels his story, but her arms remain twined around his neck, her lips brushing his cheek - exorcising all the tension that'd been escalating inside of him. Jax's whole body sags with relief at her reaction - he'd feared that she'd be hurt that he hadn't talk to her about his problems, not to mention sorely pissed that he'd even considered setting foot into Charming.

Their relationship may have started on rocky terrain - marred by secrets and lies and misunderstandings - but from that painful past they forged a powerful bond; Jax and Tara - they were one, a single oh-so-connected unit that nothing and no one could ever split apart.

She cups his face in her soft hands. "Baby, don't ever worry about losing sight of who you are. Because I won't let you forget…Jackson Teller, you're a beautiful man and a total fucking bad ass who I fall more in love with every single day. Besides, I bet none of those 'plastic fuckers' ever knocked up his wife in a Harley dealership bathroom."

Jax snorts with laughter and rubs her swollen belly - six months ago, they'd taken a new model out for a test drive, then she'd dragged him into the bathroom and fucked him senseless. He presses his lips against hers, smiling when his baby girl (he's sure it's a girl) kicks against his hand.

Gemma and SAMCRO were the past, and in the past they need to stay; hearing what happened to poor Donna had been a tragic and sobering reminder of how ugly life could've been had he chose a different path. Hopefully one day Opie will call him with the news that he's taking his family and getting the hell out of the MC life.

" _No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just come out the other side. Or you don't."**_

The passage pops into his head as he glances over at the framed photos decorating the dresser - his favorite was a family shot that Nero had taken of them: Tara and his boys laughing while he squeezed them in his arms, a big ass grin on his face. And soon they'll need new family pictures - he can't fucking wait.

For the millionth time, he sends up thanks that he made the choice to be with her fifteen years ago. Tara and their kids - that's his family now, his future. It didn't fucking matter whether he wore hoodies or three-piece suits, just as long as he had the love of his life by his side.

* * *

* _You Can't Go Home Again_ by Thomas Wolfe

** _The Stand_ by Stephen King

AN: Sorry it's taken forever for me to finish, thanks for your patience. My brain kept spinning in so many different directions - more about Abel and Thomas as well as Opie and Donna - but I had to remind myself that this was Jax and Tara's story, their journey to be together. Anything else would've been a distraction, and I'd never finish.

Thanks again for sticking with me!


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